New Beginnings
by kahhtina
Summary: Tired of the mundane life of America, a young Cora Levinson travels to Europe, full of the excitement of a new adventure. Begins pre-20th century.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Cora Levinson looked out the window of her family's carriage, observing the same sights of New York City she'd seen year after year for as long as she could remember. Recently, she'd begun to feel differently about her beloved New York. The city and everything in it seemed increasingly dull and insipid. As the carriage slowed to allow a few pedestrians to cross the intersection, she let out a deep sigh.

"Cora, dear, are you all right?" Mrs. Levinson asked her daughter.

Cora turned her head to look at her mother. "I'm perfectly well," she said.

"Then what are you sighing for?" her brother Harold asked in an annoyed voice.

Cora narrowed her fierce blue eyes. "Because you're here," she said. Harold stuck his tongue out at her.

"Oh, you love me, Cor," Harold said haughtily. Cora rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to her mother.

"I suppose I'm bored," Cora admitted, crossing her arms and leaning back against the seat.

"We've been invited to the Smiths for a dinner party next week, that should be a novelty," Mrs. Levinson told her.

"With the same old, boring families," she complained.

"What about Edward Smith?" Harold asked in a flowery voice. "Isn't he your beau?"

Cora rolled her eyes. "Is that what he told you?" she asked with a snort. "I haven't decided yet. Who needs only one beau?"

Harold made a clicking sound with his tongue. "How disappointing of you, Cor," he said with mock disapproval. "I thought you had more compassion than that."

"Don't lecture me, Harold," she said. "I see that you haven't settled whether you like Maggie Carlton or Alexandra Mathis more."

"Stop arguing," Mrs. Levinson ordered her children. Harold clamped his mouth shut, grinning madly, his eyes dancing with laughter.

Cora looked at her mother. "I've had a letter from Lissy Walters. She writes that her family is traveling to Europe at the end of April, and she asks if I'd like to come with her," she said, folding her hands in her lap.

Mrs. Levinson raised her eyebrows. "Europe? Why on earth are they going there?"

"Apparently her father has some business there and they've decided to make a vacation out of it. They're taking both Lissy and her two younger sisters. Oh, please, may I go, Mother? I've never been anywhere interesting," the daughter implored.

"How long will they be gone?" Mrs. Levinson asked, adjusting her gloves.

"Five months," Cora told her, apprehensive the length of the stay would put her mother off the idea.

"What on earth would someone do in Europe for five months?" Harold asked, unable to hold in his laughter any longer.

"See sites and meet people, Harold," Cora said tartly. "Oh, please, Mother. It would be such a great experience. They'll spend time in London and Paris and Rome."

Harold chortled and Cora glared at her brother.

"I don't much like the idea that you'll be there alone," their mother said slowly. "Harold, perhaps you could-"

"No. There is no chance in he-"

"Watch your mouth," Cora scolded.

"There is no way I'd ever go to Europe. It sounds duller than dull," Harold said, rolling his eyes at Cora's reprimand.

"You know Cora must have a chaperone, Harold," Mrs. Levinson said. "She's only nineteen."

"I don't need a chaperone," Cora interjected. "Besides, Mr. Walters is more than capable of seeing that I'm perfectly safe. You know what he's like. Always treating Lissy and her sisters so cautiously."

"I will speak to your father about this. We simply don't want you to fall prey to some aristocratic family in need of money. You know how Europeans are. Always stuck in the past, thinking their reserves of gold will last until the end of time."

"So you will ask Dad about it?" Cora asked hopefully.

"Yes," Mrs. Levinson agreed. "But we may commission Harold to at least see you arrive safely and are comfortable. It's the least he can do for his dear sister. Who knows, you may even enjoy yourself, dear."

Harold looked positively murderous at the thought.

"Oh, thank you, Mother," said Cora, smiling.

"Perhaps it would help you feel less bored," Mrs. Levinson told her daughter.

Cora smiled, hoping her father would consent.

* * *

"Finally, land," Harold said, stepping shakily onto the dock. The past few weeks had not been kind to him, but the sea air had seemed to revitalize his younger sister, who looked happier than he'd seen her in months. She followed behind him, her face glowing as she looked around at the shipyard, her eyes taking in the scene before her.

"How lovely," Mrs. Walters said from the back of the group. "Priscilla's man is here just on time."

"Two carriages," Mr. Walters commented, pulling on his overcoat. "Seems rather excessive."

"Oh, you know Prissy," said Mrs. Walters knowingly. "She never was one to conserve."

Mr. Walters huffed as their party followed the other passengers off the ship and down to the carriages meant for them. Mr. and Mrs. Walters along with their two youngest daughters, both only fourteen and fifteen, entered the first, while the elder, Lissy, at twenty, Cora, and Harold climbed into the other, which was smaller, but no less grand.

"We'll see you in a bit," Mrs. Walters called to them before the carriages set out for the bustling streets of London.

As they traveled, Cora gazed out the window, her eyes bright with wonder as she watched the bustle of people as they passed.

"What will we do today?" Cora asked Lissy, who was seated on the opposite bench.

"I assume rest," Lissy said, looking rather tired. "Mamma will be too worn out to go anywhere and Father has an early day tomorrow."

"Do you think they'd allow Harold to take us out? There's so much to see."

"Absolutely not!" Harold objected immediately. "I'm not going to lug the two of you around. Besides, I'm tired and so is Lissy."

"Oh, Harold, how can anyone be tired at a time like this? There's so much to see!"

Harold looked at his sister, whose face was radiant as he'd never seen it before with all the hopeful thoughts of exploring a new city and meeting new people.

"There's always tomorrow," Lissy offered, hoping to discourage her friend from insisting further. "And there's a ball at the end of the week."

"But we'll only be in England for three more weeks after Friday. And Harold will be leaving then. Don't you want to see all you can?" Cora asked her friend, her cheeks coloring with excitement.

"Oh, all right," Harold moaned. "You've convinced me. As long as Mr. and Mrs. Walters consent, you can run around London until you pass out with exhaustion."

"Oh, Harold, you're a darling!" Cora exclaimed, quickly kissing her brother's cheek.

"Don't be a loon," he told her, unable to hide his pleasure at her happiness. "It was just to get you off my back."

"Sure it was," she replied, grinning as she turned to look out the window once more.

* * *

To Cora's delight-and Harold's slight dismay-the Walter's allowed them to go out sightseeing as long as they took a man with them. Following a quick luncheon and a change of clothes, Harold and Cora departed, one of the footmen, Stephen, accompanying them.

"I don't understand why we have to have someone come with us," Harold complained as they walked. "I'm fully capable-"

"I'm sure it's just because Stephen knows London, isn't that right?" Cora asked the footman, who colored slightly at her address.

"I suppose so, miss," he said quickly.

"See," Cora said, sticking her nose in the air.

Their destination for the day was to see the Thames, although they'd seen it driving to the house earlier.

"Isn't this splendid, Harold?" Cora asked as they stood near Tower Bridge, looking out over the water.

"Looks like a lot of murky water and a crumbly old bridge, if you ask me," Harold said, shielding his eyes in the afternoon sun. "I thought it always rained in England." This comment was for Stephen.

"Not every day, sir."

"Hmm," Harold said, squinting. "What now, Cor?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said, looking around. "There's just so much to see."

"Well, we can't see it all today," Harold told her. "Aren't you tired yet?"

"Only a little," she said, smoothing out her new coat. "I suppose some people can't handle life at sea."

"Some people prefer land," he said, leaning his elbows on the wall overlooking the river. Cora rolled her eyes as she looked around at the passersby.

"All the ladies are so elegant and refined," she said, feeling like a disheveled child.

"Don't look like that, Cor," Harold said, noticing his sister's downcast eyes. "You're more lovely than all of them."

"But their clothes are so lovely and-"

Harold cut her off. "And no one is even looking at them now that you're here."

"What are you talking about?" Cora asked.

"Every man we've passed can't keep his eyes off you. I've half a mind to start telling them off," he said.

"What men?" she asked in genuine disbelief.

"Take those two Brits over there," Harold said, nodding to a pair of young men standing a few paces away. Cora turned her head, her eyes meeting with the fair-haired one first, who continued the discussion with his companion despite their obvious distraction. He was far more handsome than his friend, and his light eyes met hers for a few seconds before looking away. Cora felt her cheeks burn as she noticed a small smile on his face as he spoke to his friend.

"Oh, I'm sure I look terrible," she said, not believing her own words.

"And I'm sure they think you're the loveliest creature they've ever beheld. We should go, though, they look far too snobbish and pompous," Harold said, taking Cora's arm and steering her away. She looked over her shoulder, noticing they men were still looking at her. She couldn't help but smile before turning away to follow after Harold.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"That dress is simply lovely on you, Cora, dear," Lissy crooned from her seat on the edge of Cora's bed. Cora smiled at her friend as the maid buttoned the back of the crimson dress.

Their first few days in London had passed uneventfully. Mr. Watson had attended to his business while the others had explored the city-although Cora wished Mrs. Watson was more adventurous. They were always back at the house by four and, to Cora's despair, had only been to the theatre once.

The girls were preparing for the long-awaited ball, where they would be introduced-or as Harold devilishly put it, "flung"-into British society.

"I wish my hair was like yours, such a nice raven black. Cora, you really are beautiful. I'm sure all the young men will want to dance with you and there will be none left for the rest of us," Lissy said, feeling exceedingly plain compared to her friend. Although Cora knew she was pretty, her vanity was not usually affected by overt flattery, a useful trait when suitors expected their compliments to have weight.

"Hush, friend," Cora scolded gently, reaching for Lissy's hand. "Your dress is such a nice blue, it really makes your hair look more golden than usual and your hair frames your face so perfectly."

"You're just saying that," Lissy said mournfully.

"I'm not, truly," Cora said as the maid finished up. "Shall we go down?"

"Oh, if we must," Lissy said looking in the mirror one last time. "I must find someone plainer to stand near so at least someone will dance with me."

"Don't be silly," Cora said, hooking Lissy's arm in her own as they left the room. "You must stand with me all night, for we only know Harold, and I daresay he will make himself scarce."

Grudgingly, Lissy agreed.

* * *

The small party, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Watson, Lissy, Cora, and Harold, arrived, pushing through the throng of people to enter the building. Once inside, Cora looked around, admiring the elegance of the room and the people as well. Introductions were made to a few key people before the younger guests entered the ballroom, where the orchestra was already playing a lively tune. Many pairs were already out on the floor. Cora watched from the side, Harold and Lissy next to her.

"What a splendid dance!" Lissy remarked as they watched.

"I really couldn't be coaxed out there for anything faster than a waltz," Harold said.

"Who's asking?" Cora asked playfully.

"Don't you remember you promised your first dance to me," Harold told his sister.

"I said no such thing!" Cora protested. "Besides, we shouldn't leave Lissy."

"Do go," Lissy insisted. "Perhaps someone will ask me if you're not here to look at."

"You're ganging up on me," Cora complained.

"How about it, Cor? Let's show these Brits a thing or two."

Cora laughed. "Well, all right. If you insist."

Harold led her out to the floor, where he joined those already out.

"You really look too beautiful tonight," he told her.

"Too beautiful? That doesn't sound like a compliment."

"Just look around, Cor. Not one man isn't looking at you," Harold told her.

"Don't be ridiculous," she told him. But when she allowed herself to look around, she saw he wasn't wrong. It did seem as though every man in the room had his eyes on her. She couldn't help but smile at the silliness of it all.

"If every man here doesn't fall in love with you tonight-"

"Oh, hush. You know I'd never let any flattering words impair my judgement," she said.

"Nothing impairs one's judgement more than love."

Cora laughed aloud at the thought. She had never been in love and doubted she ever would be.

* * *

"Viscount Downton, how well you look. The life of a country gentleman suits you."

"We've known each other for years, Edwin," the viscount reminded his friend. "Titles are all very well when first acquainted, but, please, call me Robert."

"Very well, if you prefer, Robert."

"Thank you," Robert said looking out on the scene of dancers before him.

"I'm surprised you're not dancing," said Edwin casually. "There are quite a few lovely girls about."

"I like to settle in first before I embarrass myself, Edwin," Robert joked. As he looked through the crowd, his eyes stopped on a beautiful, dark-haired girl.

"Any idea who that is?" Edwin asked, voicing the question in Robert's mind.

"No idea," Robert said as he watched the girl. She was smiling warmly at her partner, of whom Robert felt oddly jealous.

"I think I've seen her before," Robert admitted, remembering the lovely creature he'd seen by the Thames earlier that week.

"She's exquisite," Edwin commented.

"Steady on, she's with someone," Robert said.

"I'm going to ask around. Find out who she is," he said before slipping away.

In Edwin's absence, Robert continued to watch her for a few minutes before his thoughts were interrupted by his sister, Rosamund.

"Don't gawk, Robert," Rosamund scolded. "At whom are you staring?"

"Her," Robert said, his eyes still on the girl.

Rosamund chortled. "Oh. Everyone's going on and on about her."

"Who is she?" he asked.

"Apparently her name is Cora Levinson. She's from New York and her father is in coal or something. Anyway, she and her brother are set up for nice inheritance when the father goes. And her dowry will be quite excessive," Rosamund explained.

"How do you know such things?" Robert asked, not terribly surprised by his sister's vast knowledge if Miss Levinson's fortune.

"Oh, I have my ways. That's her brother she's dancing with now."

Robert felt a sense of relief at discovering the man was her brother.

"You know," Rosamund began in her usual sly way. "Papa would appreciate if you got to know her. With that bad investment-"

"Hush," Robert whispered.

"I'm only saying," Rosamund said quickly. "Look at it as a business move. Plus, she is a pretty little thing. I'm sure she'd make a fine wife."

Robert pressed his lips together. She was lovely. And their father's failed investment was worse than even Rosamund realized. He knew they'd have to sell the estate if a new source of income wasn't found. And soon.

"If I dance with her, will you leave me be? I'm sure Marmaduke is looking for you."

"I'm sure he is. Oh, Papa would be so pleased," Rosamund said cheerfully before walking away.

Robert sighed, relieved Rosamund was gone.

As soon as the dance finished, Robert moved toward Miss Levinson, hoping to reach her before another suitor. He was thwarted by Edwin, who began the next

dance with her.

Robert moved to the side once more, waiting for the opportune moment.

* * *

"You dance very well, Miss Levinson," the young man complimented as they danced.

"Thank you, Mr.-"

"Sir Edwin Hawkins," he said quickly.

"Oh, I've never understood your English titles. Always so particular about everything," Cora told him.

"I'm not too bent on rules," he said. "Call me Edwin if you like, Miss Levinson."

"Well, I wouldn't want to get you into any trouble. I'm only a silly American, after all," she said.

"Silly hardly describes you, Miss Levinson," Edwin said with a smile.

"Thank you, sir, but you hardly know me."

"Oh, I've done my research. Every one here's talking about you."

Cora felt indignation at his words. "And what would anyone have to say about me?" she asked.

"Only that you are a beautiful American. Don't be so shocked. The entire party is taken with you. Why, my friend still can't keep his eyes off you."

"Friend? Who?" she asked, surprised by his bold statement.

"The lighter-haired fellow standing off to the side," Edwin said.

Cora followed his glance, locking eyes with the gentleman of whom he'd spoken. Whoever he was, he was very handsome, although not in the usual ways. He carried himself regally and Cora thought he looked very proud. His brows were pulled together, as though he was in serious thought over something. However, when Cora looked at him, his face softened and she felt herself blush before she looked away. She had no idea why she felt so embarrassed at his gaze.

"Who is he?" she asked carefully, hoping Sir Edwin hadn't noticed her blush.

"I'll introduce you!" Edwin said as the dance ended, as if he'd come up with the grandest idea any man had ever had.

"Oh, no, I don't think-" Cora protested, extremely nervous at the thought.

"Please, Miss Levinson. Put the poor devil out of his misery."

"All right," she consented half-heartedly.

Feeling unreasonably jittery, Cora followed Edwin to where the gentleman was standing. She was slightly relived when she saw he looked nervous as well.

"Viscount," Edwin addressed the man. "May I present Miss Levinson of New York. Miss Levinson, this is my dear friend, Viscount Downton, Robert Crawley."  
Unwillingly, Cora blushed as she curtsied and the Viscount bowed to her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Viscount Downton," Cora said shakily, smiling at him.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Levinson," he said smoothly. Up close, he was even more handsome and distinguished. "Is this your first time in England?" he asked.

"It is," she told him.

"Are you finding everything to your liking?" the Viscount asked conversationally.

"Very much so! The people are so kind and it's a very lovely country," Cora said enthusiastically. He smiled happily at her remark and Cora blushed again.

"How long will you be in town, Miss Levinson?" Edwin asked, voicing the question on Robert's mind.

"We'll stay for three more weeks, and then we go to Paris, and Italy after that," she said.

"Oh, three weeks in England is not enough! You must visit some of our other counties. Have you, by any chance, been to York?" Edwin asked. Robert noticed his friend's mischievousness and gave him a scolding look, which Cora didn't notice and Edwin ignored.

"No, I haven't," Cora said.

"Robert's father, Lord Grantham, owns the estate at Downton. It's so gorgeous, I'm sure you'd be very taken with the house and the gardens," Edwin said with a grin.

"My, that does sound interesting," she said.

"Miss Levinson, may I have the next dance?" Robert asked, as Edwin looked as though he were about to say something more.

"Yes," Cora replied almost instantly. "I-I would be delighted."

Robert smiled warmly and Cora returned the smile, her heart beating furiously as she took his arm and he led her to the dance floor.

(Please forgive any historical inaccuracies with this fic. While I did attempt research on the English aristocracy, I still find it confusing and I could not properly understand everything. Reviews are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Robert found Miss Levinson to be a marvelous dancer-even if she was American. To his surprise and delight, she was extremely graceful, more so than many English ladies he knew. It was almost as if she were royal herself, although there was no American equivalent to the aristocracy, he felt that surely she was a distant relation to it. After all, Americans were British citizens a little more than a century ago.

"You're a marvelous dancer," Robert told her. By this time, they were on their second dance, much to the disdain of other men in the room and a selection of ladies who had hoped to catch the Viscount's eye that night. But he only had eyes for the beautiful American, as did most of the men there.

"Thank you, Viscount," Cora said, a small smile on her face. "Especially for an American, I suppose?"

"For anyone," Robert correct her, pleased with the blush his compliment created. Cora looked away, noticing some of the disgusted looks she was getting from a few ladies. She looked back at Robert unashamed of his attentions, feeling proud to dance with him. She held herself higher as she looked into his eyes.

"What does your family do?" Cora asked, without realizing her question was rather silly.

Robert chuckled genially. "Do? Why, I suppose you could call us investors," he told her. "My father and I run our family's estate at Downton."

"My, how very difficult your life must be," she joked.

"I don't suppose yours is much different, is it Miss Levinson?" he asked. "Parties, society living?"

"Pardon me, Viscount, but what do you know of my life in America?" Cora asked, slightly incredulous. Where did all these English acquire their information?

"Please forgive me, Miss Levinson. I did not intend to sound as though I am more knowledgeable than I am. But, as you are here at this particular gathering, I assumed you were a lady of elegant society, as your manners and loveliness exude," said Robert quickly. He hoped Miss Levinson would believe this half-truth as a whole.

None the wiser of his smooth statement, Cora smiled at him. "How kind of you to say so, Viscount," she said sweetly. Relieve, Robert smiled back at her. He'd relied for so long on his ability to smooth things over that he was pleased it seemed to work on Americans as well.

"Do you realize you've danced two dances with me, Miss Levinson? My, my, what will people be saying about us?" Robert asked. Cora's heart skipped a few beats and she felt silly once again.

"Oh, heavens, I didn't even think of that," she said quickly. "I'm sure I will be scolded by my brother as soon as he finds me."

Robert laughed, looking around for said brother. "I believe he does look rather cross," he told her, smiling genially at her.

"What's he doing?"

"He's talking to a young lady, but he can't seem to stop watching us," Robert told her, still smiling.

"Oh, God," Cora sighed. "I'm in for it."

"I'm sure my mother will have a few things to say to me as well," Robert admitted, his eyes searching the room before settling on Cora again. "Although I am having a lovely time, Miss Levinson."

Cora blushed and looked away, her heart beating madly. "That's kind of you to say. So am I," she said truthfully, looking at the Viscount again. His smile made Cora feel as though she were floating. She had no idea why a dance, even two dances, with a man could make her feel this way. She felt incredibly ridiculous, but she didn't seem to mind.

To her disappointment, the dance ended and the Viscount led her to the side of the floor.

"Thank you for the dances, Miss Levinson," Robert said, taking hold of her gloved hand and kissed it softly. Cora's heart gave a start as he looked up at her. She stared at him blankly, unable to respond with words. She could not remember a time when a suitor had rendered her speechless, although she couldn't remember much of anything at the moment. Her response was a please smile, nothing more.

"Good night, Miss Levinson," he said, gently releasing her hand.

"G-good night, Viscount Downton," Cora said shakily. Holding the her gaze for a moment more, Robert smiled once more before turning and walking across the room, where he found his mother and father standing. The Earl and Countess of Grantham looked suspicious as their son approached, his mind still on Cora's lovely face.

"Robert, with whom were you dancing?" the Countess asked sternly, her eyes flitting about the room. By her question, Robert knew Rosamund had already spoken to their parents.

"You know very well, Mama," Robert told her. "Rosamund told you, didn't she?"

"She mentioned you were dancing with an American girl, a lovely one, might I add?" the Earl said. "But, of course, you know how your mother feels about Americans." Robert forced back a laugh as he heard the jest in his father's voice. The Countess gave her husband a scathing look and he nearly rolled his eyes.

"Is it not enough that Lady Asher served salmon puffs tonight, but Robert must dance with an American?"

"Dearest Mama, do not be too hasty," her son said, attempting to soothe her. "It was only dancing."

"Rosamund tells us she's very rich," the Countess said stiffly. "I suppose you'll want to marry her now that the estate is to go."

"Don't talk about it here, Violet," Lord Grantham muttered to his wife. "We must appear as we always have been."

Violet sighed, waving her hand at her husband in an annoyed manner before walking away.

Once Violet was out of earshot, Lord Grantham spoke in an undertone.

"I've discovered Miss Levinson's fortune is even greater than Rosamund's sources supposed. Her father owns a coal company that is expanding to the mining of tin," he said. "If you could...persuade her...our problems would be solved."

"You mean marry her for her money?" Robert asked, slightly surprised by his father's suggestion. Not that it hadn't crossed his own mind numerous times during the evening. It just sounded worse hearing it from someone other than Rosamund.

"We've been made very desperate, Robert," his father said quickly. "I know it's not ideal, but if you don't marry well, we will have to sell. You haven't settled on any others, have you?"

"Well, none as lucrative as Miss Levinson," Robert told him.

"None as beautiful, either, I'm sure," Lord Grantham said.

"Yes, she is quite stunning, isn't she?" Robert said, his eyes drifting to where Miss Levinson was obviously being scolded by her brother.

"You know there's nothing else to be done, Robert. We are at the mercy of whomever you marry. Do you really want to see my life's work, your inheritance, lost forever and your mother not able to live in the comfort of which she is accustomed for the rest of her days?"

Robert swallowed. He could not let Downton go. Not like this. His family had worked far too long to keep the beloved property and house. He would not be the reason his family's dynasty had turned to dust.

Both men continued to watch Miss Levinson from across the room. She was smiling again, talking and laughing with her brother and the other girl. As he watched, Robert furrowed his brow in concentration. He knew she could save Downton. If only he could convince her.

* * *

The evening ended much too soon for Cora's liking. Many other men had asked her to dance, and she'd said yes to nearly all ofthem, but she couldn't stop thinking about the Viscount Downton. His light blue eyes, his smile.

_Stop it,_ Cora, she'd scolded herself numerous times. _He's just a man. Like all the others who've given you attention. He's no different._

But still, she could not stop thinking of him. It was strange for her to be so taken with anyone, especially someone she'd only just met. Usually she simply ignored men or only let them have her attention if she was especially bored. Only her father and Harold had her affections. Why should this Englishman be worthy of it?

Harold and Lissy had both noticed Cora's odd behavior in the days following the ball. She was listless and uninterested in most things, although, at first, neither was sure of the reason. Or Harold hoped it wasn't what he thought it might be.

One afternoon, Harold and Mr. Watson had left the ladies at the house. Mrs. Watson was feeling tired, so the girls were forced to stay as well. The younger girls ran about the drawing room while Lissy sat with her mother, the daughter doing needlework while the mother rested her eyes. Cora sat at the piano in the corner, playing a soft melody that had only just come into her head.

"That's lovely, Cora," Lissy commented. "Who's it by?" she asked.

"I made it up," Cora answered, gently pressing down the keys. Lissy smiled her approval as one of the servants entered the room.

"A visitor, ma'am," the butler said.

"Who is it?" Mrs. Watson asked, sitting up slightly.

"The Viscount Downton," he said. Cora's breath caught in her throat.

"The Viscount Downton?" Mrs. Watson asked, sitting upright. "What in earth is he doing here?"

"He's come to call on you and the young ladies, ma'am," he said, a little taken aback by the question. "Shall I show him in?"

"Oh, yes, yes," Mrs. Watson said, straightening her dress as she got to her feet and the old butler slipped out of the room. The older girls got to their feet as well, Cora doing her best to avoid Lissy's questioning eyes.

She looked down at her green dress, surmising whether or not she should have chosen a different outfit today. Before she has time to decide, footsteps were echoing down the hallway and a moment later the butler entered again.

"The Viscount Downton, Robert Crawley."

The aforementioned Viscount entered, a smile on his face as the group bowed to one another.

"Please forgive my impertinence," Robert said congenially. "I hope I'm not disturbing you, ma'am," he said to Mrs. Watson.

"Not at all," she said kindly. "Please have a seat."

"Thank you," he said warmly, choosing the chair nearest Cora. She had moved from the piano and had seated herself beside Lissy as they all sat down.

"Would you like anything? Should I ring for tea?" Mrs. Watson asked, unsure of English customs.

"No thank you, Mrs. Watson," Robert said, his smile warm. He caught Cora's eye and she blushed furiously. Lissy watched the exchange between Robert and Cora with suspicion.

"What brings you here, Viscount?" Mrs. Watson asked.

"I thought I might inquire after you and your daughters, ma'am, not to mention your lovely guest, Miss Levinson. How are you all today?" he asked smoothly. Any suspicions Mrs. Watson had of the young Viscount vanished.

"We are very well, thank you, Viscount. And how is your mother? I was introduced to the Countess of Grantham the other evening," Mrs. Watson said.

"My mother is very well," Robert told her. "Actually, she is part of the reason I'm here. She hoped you and the young ladies would join her for tea tomorrow afternoon."

"How kind," Mrs. Watson said, looking at her daughter and Cora. "I'm sure we'd be delighted."

Robert smiled at Cora, who'd been watching the exchange in silence. Her heart skipped a few beats when his eyes met hers again. "You look very well, Miss Levinson," he said warmly She blushed, but ignored it as she responded. She could feel the stares of Lissy and Mrs. Watson, but ignored that, too.

"Thank you, Viscount," she said in a steady voice. She had picked up her needlepoint and begun to stitch where she'd left off, but she found her hands were too unsteady.

"Are you very fond of needlepoint, Miss Levinson?" Robert asked.

Cora laughed softly. "It helps pass the time," she told him. A half-smile crossed his face.

"So I'm told," he quipped. "My sister Rosamund abhors it, however. Although that is likely because she lacks the patience to develop the skill. I can see you do not."

"My, I hope impatience is not a family trait," Mrs. Watson interjected.

"Not at all ma'am," Robert told her. "I am much more patient than my sister." At this sentence, his eyes had flickered to Cora before returning to Mrs. Watson. "I'm afraid I must be going," he said, getting to his feet. The ladies did the same.

"Thank you for coming," Mrs. Watson said, extending her hand. Robert clasped it quickly.

"Thank you for allowing such an inconvenience. I do hope I'll have the pleasure again soon."

Robert's eyes met Cora's again. She smiled coyly before looking away. _What are you doing?_ she scolded herself. _He's just a man._

She turned her eyes toward him once more, determination in her eyes. Lissy watched them carefully.

"Good afternoon, Miss Levinson," Robert said gently.

"Good afternoon, Viscount," Cora replied, her pulse quicker than she'd ever felt it before. He took a step toward her. Then, as though realizing the others were watching, changed his mind, instead looking Mrs. Watson.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," he said quickly before hurrying out of the room.

When he was gone, Lissy looked at Cora while her mother spoke. "What was that about?" Mrs. Watson questioned, sitting down again.

"I think he's in love with Cora," Lissy said, almost as though accusing Cora of making him love her. Cora looked away from her friend, ignoring the questions of Mrs. Watson and returning to the piano.

_He doesn't love me._ She thought to herself. _Why would he? I'm sure he doesn't._ Still, his behavior, his visit at all was very strange. Why had he come? Cora found herself smiling for no reason as she began playing the same gentle melody again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Oh, Robert, I don't know why you insisted I invite that woman and her daughters to tea. What in heaven will I have to discuss with _Americans_?" Violet asked in an annoyed voice.

Robert sat at the writing desk in the drawing room, his mother across the room in one of the chairs. He'd been finishing a note to one of his friends when Violet spoke.

"Really, Mama, you know why," he said in an exasperated voice, turning to look at her.

She pursed her lips as she looked at him, ceasing to work on her needlepoint. "I know nothing of the sort. Mrs. Walters was nice enough, but why must _I_ be the one to entertain them?" she asked.

"Unless you'd prefer they come to dinner next week," Robert suggested.

Violet inhaled sharply. "I would not," she said quickly. "Besides, we'll be back at Downton by then. We can't very well invite a group of strangers to our house."

"Of course not," Robert replied, sealing his letter swiftly. "They must cease to be strangers, first," he said shortly.

"And this tea will serve such purpose?" Violet asked. "To find a reason to invite Miss Levinson to Downton?"

Robert disliked the way his mother said the lady's name, as though it was vulgar for her to say it.

"You know what Papa said," he told her, annoyance seeping into his tone.

"I do," she said curtly. "And I do not disagree with him on the subject of doing what you can for Downton. But there are so many other options—what about that lovely Avery girl? What's her name—?"

"If you mean Clarissa Avery, you must be joking. She's incredibly dull and her fortune is less than adequate for our current situation. Just because her father is a peer—"

"This Miss Levinson, aside from being a wealthy American, has no other claims at all. I don't understand how you're willing to pursue a woman who has no other recommendations other than her fortune," Violet said firmly.

"Miss Levinson is a very agreeable young lady," Robert said quickly.

"If you mean she is beautiful, well, then I quite agree. But I thought you were courting Amelia Jenkinson—she's such a lovely girl and her father is the Earl of Liverpool. What a nice pair you made," Violet said, sounding rather sentimental.

Robert scowled at his mother's statement. He had been quite fond of Miss Jenkinson, had even written her a few letters, which he'd never told anyone about. He'd almost fancied himself to have been in love with her, but the Earl of Grantham's failed investment sullied any hope Robert had had of attaining her. The Earl of Liverpool would never allow his daughter to marry into a family whose fortune had been lost. And he knew Amelia deserved so much better than that. She deserved much better than he could give now.

"Miss Beaumont has other, more worthy suitors," Robert said tersely. He turned away, remembering the sweet smile of Miss Jenkinson, her goldenrod colored hair. Clenching his jaw, he forced the image from his mind.

"More _lucrative_, you mean," Violet corrected. "Though none as in love with her as you were."

Robert turned back to her, steel in his gaze. "You astound me, Mama," he said, growing angrier. "Do you want Downton to go? Is that the reason you continue to badger me on this subject?"

"Watch your temper, Robert," Violet scolded, maintaining her serenity. "Of course I do not want Downton to be lost. After everything you're father's done—everything we all have done—to make it a force for good in the county and ensure it is useful as a place of employment. I've not made such sacrifices for that end. I only want to know if you're quite sure about setting your sights on this Miss Levinson. Have we really done all we can?"

"Of course we have," Robert said. "The failed investment cost us everything. We only have enough to keep us afloat for the next six months and then, if another source of income isn't found, we will have to sell."

"And you have no other prospects but this American girl?" Violet asked. "I find that very odd."

"I feel that she will be more—persuadable," Robert said darkly. Violet raised her eyebrows.

"You mean, she will be completely ignorant of our situation until after the marriage is arranged?" she asked. Robert turned away again, setting his jaw.

"Yes," he said brusquely before getting to his feet and leaving the room. Violet watched him go, feeling remorse as she looked at the clock above the mantle, as time neared for tea.

* * *

"What a lovely room, Lady Grantham," Mrs. Watson said as the ladies were seated around the small table in the parlor. Cora sat in the chair next to Lissy's, which happened to be directly across from the Countess' own seat. The Countess poured the tea, passing the one around to each lady. Taking the cup she was handed, Cora felt as though she were being examined. The Countess's serious gaze never left Cora's face for long, even when another person spoke. Feeling extremely self-conscious, Cora prepared her tea, although she'd never much cared for it, in the same way as Lissy, although she had no idea if it was correct or not.

"How are you finding London, Miss Levinson?" the Countess asked suddenly, after a lag in the small-talk conversation.

Cora forced herself to not choke on her tea before responding. "It's been quite enjoyable, Lady Grantham," she said, setting her teacup down primly. "London has so much to offer."

"I daresay it does, for young people," Violet said, her voice rather stark. "I suppose you prefer life the city. I suppose the country would be too dull."

Cora raised her chin, almost defiantly. "On the contrary, Lady Grantham, I find country life to be very enjoyable. Often, the hustle and bustle of city life turns monotonous, can it not?" she asked.

"My, you have very strong opinions, Miss Levinson," Violet stated before taking a sip of her tea.

"Oh, I always feel strongly about things," Cora said. "I don't love halfway."

_Who's talking of love?_ Violet thought to herself before directing the conversation to Mrs. Watson. She'd grown agitated by what Miss Levinson had said. She wished another way would be found so this haughty American would not be incorporated into her beloved estate. Why on earth should such a woman reap the benefits of her hard work of the past twenty years? Surely she would never be capable of stepping into the role of Countess of Grantham.

"Have you ever been to America, Lady Grantham?" Mrs. Watson asked.

"Oh, of course not," Violet said hastily. "Sea travel does not agree with me."

"How unfortunate," Mrs. Watson observed.

"Not at all," she replied. "England is my home and my country. I should hate to go anywhere else."

Mrs. Watson leaned back slightly, surprised by the Countess's blatant words.

"Oh, heavens, it is getting late," Mrs. Watson observed after a few moments had passed. "Thank you so much for your invitation, Lady Grantham. The afternoon has been quite enjoyable."

They party got to their feet. Violet nodded curtly to Mrs. Watson. "It's been a pleasure," she said, eyeing Cora. "Please come again," she said half-heartedly.

Mrs. Watson thanked her before beginning to move toward the door.

"Miss Levinson," Violet said, stopping Cora. "I wonder if you and your brother would be free to come to dinner next week at our home in Yorkshire, Downton Abbey."

Cora was surprised by the Countess's request. "I'm sure we'd be delighted, Lady Grantham," she replied, almost without thinking. The prospect of seeing the Viscount again was too thrilling to decline.

Violet nodded, her lips pursed. "We'll look forward to seeing you the Saturday after next," she said.

"Thank you, your ladyship," said Cora. They bowed to one another before Cora followed the others out of the room.

As they stood in the hall, Cora looked about, noticing how grand the house truly was. _I imagine this Downton Abbey will be even more extravagant_, she thought to herself. _And the Viscount will be there. _She smiled before leaving with her party.

(Don't look into the peerage titles and surnames too much—I used Wikipedia for the surnames, but that's all. Thanks for reading!)


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Robert looked at himself in the mirror, a bored expression on his face. His valet, Mr. Royce, straightened his white tie.

"Tonight's the night, Royce," Robert observed.

"We'll be sure to keep up the honor of Downton, my lord," Royce said. "Mr. Carson will make sure of that."

"I daresay he will," Robert replied, nodding his approval. Royce brushed any lint off Robert's shoulders. "What did you think of Miss Levinson, Royce?"

"I thought her quite lovely," Royce said.

"For an American?" Robert asked hesitantly.

"For most ladies I've seen," Royce replied.

Robert nodded, rather pleased with this statement. "Thank you, Royce," he said. With a nod Royce left the room and Robert headed down to the drawing room.

"Mr. Levinson, what do you think of our countryside?" Violet was asking as Robert entered the room.

"It's very picturesque," Harold replied.

"Oh, Robert, good," Violet said. "We thought you'd been detained by that Royce. Is he usually so chatty? He kept talking to me earlier about the rug in the great hall."

Robert ignored his mother's statement as he walked over to stand beside Harold.

"What could be keeping Miss Levinson?" Violet wondered aloud after no one spoke for a few moments.

"Beauty takes time, my dear," Lord Grantham observed. Violet narrowed her eyes, but didn't have a ready reply.

"I suppose the train was tedious?" Robert asked Harold.

"Not at all," Harold replied. "Travel by train is much more bearable than by sea, I think. And my sister is an excellent travel companion."

"One of her many admirable qualities, I'm sure," Lord Grantham said. Harold found this statement ironic, coming from a man who admired money above all else.

"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, Lord and Lady Grantham," Cora burst out when she entered moments later.

"Trust me, the wait was well worth it," Lord Grantham said, getting to his feet. Robert smiled at Cora, who blushed at his attention.

"Shall we go in?" Violet asked. Lord Grantham nodded, offering his arm to Cora.

"You look very fine this evening, Miss Levinson," the Earl said as Robert led his mother to the dining room.

"Thank you, Lord Grantham," Cora said sweetly.

He patted her hand. "We're so happy you're here," he told her.

"Thank you, your lordship," she said, blushing again. "You're all so kind."

They sat down for dinner in the opulent dining room. Ever since their arrival, Cora had been quite taken with the entire house and its grounds. While the head housemaid had helped her get ready, Cora had even imagined she lived there. But she'd sworn to herself she wouldn't speak of it.

After their arrival, Cora and Harold had wandered the grounds with the Viscount, who seemed very eager for Cora to approve of the place.

Dinner was very enjoyable, despite the fact that the Countess seemed to greatly disapprove of Cora. She was much more interested in talking to Harold than to his sister, although Cora was too busy enjoying the attentions of her husband and son to notice.

When they'd finished eating, they retired to the drawing room, where they had drinks served by the butler, Mr. Carson and the two footmen.

Cora had seated herself on one of the sofas when the Viscount came and sat beside her.

"How are you this evening, Miss Levinson?" Robert asked, smiling.

"I'm very well. You're all so kind to have us here," Cora told him, nervously shifting her drink to her other hand.

"Believe me, your presence is quite a treat for a dull family such as ours," Robert told her. Cora laughed.

"I don't think you're dull at all," said Cora.

Robert grinned. "I'm so glad," he said wholeheartedly. There was a moment of silence between them as Robert answered a question posed by his mother.

"You know," Robert began, turning his attention back to Cora. "I'd very much like to go on a walk with you tomorrow, just us two. Before you leave to go back," he said, his tone more serious than before.

_Oh, heavens._ Cora thought to herself, her cheeks burning. "That sounds lovely," she told him. "I'd be delighted."

"Good," Robert replied with a smile.

"What was the Viscount talking to you about?" Harold asked as he and Cora walked to their respective rooms at the end of the night.

"Nothing much. He asked me to take a walk with him tomorrow morning," Cora told him, hoping she sounded offhanded about it. Although she doubted she would sleep much tonight at the prospect.

Harold grabbed her arm to stop her from walking away. "Why?" he asked, his voice firm.

"How should I know?" Cora asked, pulling her arm out of his grip.

"What if he proposes?" Harold asked.

Cora laughed, shocked by her brother's words. "What makes you think he'll do that?" she asked.

Harold raised his eyebrows. "Really, Cora, sometimes you're terribly naïve. Why else would we be invited to this horrid place?"

"_I_ think it's lovely," she defended.

"He's going to propose," Harold said. "I know it."

"So what if he does?" Cora said, sticking out her chin in defiance.

"Don't tell me you mean to accept him?" her brother asked. It was his turn to be shocked.

"Perhaps I will," she said. "I haven't decided."

Harold narrowed his eyes. "You know he just wants to marry you for the money," he said.

"How dare you!" Cora scolded. "Look around at this house, do you really think they need my money?"

"I've made inquiries about their fortune," Harold explained in an undertone. "It seems Lord Grantham made an erroneous investment last year that cost him most of his fortune. They are quite broke."

Cora stared at her brother for a few minutes before responding. "And what am I supposed to do with this information?" she asked.

"Think about it, Cora," he began. "The son must marry well in order to bail themselves out of this mess. He wants your money, not you."

"I think he's quite fond of me," Cora said.

"Not as fond as he is of your money. How could he love you, Cora? He barely knows you," Harold said. She looked away, her eyes filling with tears.

"Wait," her brother said, noticing her eyes. "You don't—you can't—love _him_, do you?"

Cora pressed her lips together but didn't speak.

"Cora!" he scolded, grabbing her arm again. "Why?"

She sighed. "I can't explain it." She wiped at her eyes. "But I do. I love him."

Harold looked flabbergasted. "You can't accept him," he demanded. "No matter what you feel. I've written to dad and I'm sure he will insist that I'm right. You can't marry a man who doesn't love you."

"I think you're wrong," Cora said. "The English are so reserved, you may not be able to see it."

"You've blinded yourself to the truth. You're infatuated by his power and manners," Harold insisted. "You cannot marry him."

"You can't tell me what to do!" she insisted. "I'm not a child!"

"You're barely twenty. Please, do tell me how you've become so knowledgeable in the past year, after stomping over so many hearts."

Cora drew back at his overt attack. "I've never-" she began.

"Oh, haven't you? I could list the men you've lead on. How about Randolph Atkinson, or Stephen Crane? You sought out their attention, even let them believe you loved them before breaking their hearts!"

"I was only seventeen! Don't tell me you never pursued some poor girl for the fun of it. Or have you forgotten Marianna Judson? And you seem awfully chummy with Lissy lately. Are you planning on repeating your charade?" Cora accused. Harold's face was full of iron as he glared at Cora.

"Don't you dare scold me," he spat. "Perhaps you're not the only one who's in love."

She raised her eyebrows, surprised by the truth of her own words. "Harold, I'm sorry," Cora began, reaching for his hand.

"Spare me your apologies," Harold said, pulling his fingers from her grip. "Just know that dad will never support your union to the Viscount."

"I really do love him, Harold," Cora repeated. "Perhaps as much as you love Lissy." Harold swallowed at this statement. "If he does propose, though you're probably wrong, I mean to accept him."

"Do what you must then," Harold said. "Though God knows, Robert Crawley doesn't deserve you." Cora sighed, for she doubted she deserved him.

"If you love Lissy, tell her. Her mother may be very silly, but she is sensible enough to realize what a good man you are."

"Get some sleep," he told her with a sigh. "Who ever thought I'd be glad to return to London."

"And a certain Miss Watson," Cora teased.

At breakfast the next morning, Cora looked for any indication that Robert's regard was not genuine, but he was as attentive as ever, she found no reason to doubt him.

Later, they walked out to the garden in the late morning sun. Robert offered Cora his arm, which she happily took, her heart beating unnaturally fast as they stopped to look at a bed of roses. As he talked to her about the house and the grounds, she looked at him from the corner of her eye. She was struck by how handsome and good-natured he was.

"It's such a lovely house," Cora told him as they moved along the path.

"I'm so pleased you think so, Miss Levinson," Robert said, smiling at her. "I hoped you would."

Cora returned the smile. "Why is that, Viscount?" she asked, a faint pink color rising in her cheeks.

"I'm sure it'll be no surprise how highly I think of you," he said. Smiling, Cora looked away. "You are beautiful and kind and everything I've ever hoped for."

Cora blushed, feeling extremely self-conscious as Robert looked adoringly at her. He took one of her hands and kissed it softly before kneeling down in front of her.

"My dear Cora, I want to spend my life with you. Will you marry me?" he asked.

Feeling overwhelmed by his words, Cora felt her eyes fill with tears.

"Yes, I will," she said in a gentle voice. Smiling, Robert got to his feet, touching his fingertips to her cheek.

"I know your mother doesn't like me," Cora said after a moment.

"Mama _will_ love you," he assured her. Cora blushed at the word "love," although Robert did not notice the heightening in her color. "Papa already does," he added.

Cora smiled happily; her heart thudding so hard in her chest she was sure he could hear it. He smiled, leaning in, kissing her slowly. She thrilled at his touch, intertwining her fingers with his as he pulled away.

"We should go tell them," he said.

"Harold's going to kill me," Cora moaned, her head drooping.

"I promise I'll always take care of you. Surely he'll approve of that," Robert told her with confidence. Feeling happier than she could ever remember, Cora nodded to her future husband before they returned to the house.

(I hope you enjoyed this next chapter, it was really fun to write. Reviews are always welcome. Thanks for reading!)


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Harold was perturbed by Cora and Robert's announcement, but it was agreed that Cora would return to London with Harold while they waited for word from their parents in America. At their departure, Robert assured his bride he would write to her and visit as often as he could.

He stood beside his father as their carriage pulled away to deliver them to the train station.

"So, she doesn't suspect anything, does she?" Lord Grantham asked, giving one last wave as they departed.

"Obviously not. Although, I'm not so sure about the brother," Robert admitted. "Did you notice his look when I told you all?"

"Yes, he did look rather disturbed by the news. Carson says last night he and Miss Levinson had a bit of a shouting match in the hallway. One of the footmen overheard, unfortunately."

"What was said?" Robert asked.

"Somehow, Mr. Levinson found out the estate is in trouble," the Earl explained. "Though I haven't the slightest idea how _that_ happened. It seems the servants are a bit on edge now—think they're all going to be sacked."

Robert thought for a moment, ignoring his father's comment about the servants. "And this didn't alter Miss Levinson's—Cora's—opinion?"

"It seems…that she is in love with you. And she thinks you feel the same."

Robert looked at his father with surprise. "Are you serious?" he asked, feeling as though he'd been punched in the stomach. Hearing of Cora's declaration of made him feel worse about the entire situation.

The Earl nodded solemnly. "But isn't it better this way? She'll sign the papers if you continue to convince her you're in love with her. Then her money will be forever apart of the estate and your future son will be able to inherit a fortune superior to any we ever hoped for."

"But I don't love her," Robert stated. Lord Grantham rolled his eyes, a trait he'd caught from his feisty wife.

"You've always been a charmer, Robert," he said. "Surely you of all people can persuade her long enough. After you're married, you'll be free to do as you please. But you _must_ be married."

"I hate this deception, father. Are you really sure about this?" he asked.

"There's no other way. I wish there were, son, I really do. But Miss Levinson is quite perfect in almost every other way imaginable. You may even come to love her in time."

Robert looked away, anger building inside him. Everything he'd done up to this point he'd persuaded himself was to simply save Downton. Now, with its deliverance in sight, he realized what it really meant. He would be forever tied to a woman who for whom he had no authentic affection. She was beautiful and sweet, but that was all.

He squared his jaw, thinking about what he must do. If he resolved within himself to carry on, he knew that he would, despite his disgust for it all. Until they were married, he would have to lie to a woman who knew nothing of his dishonesty, who thought he was in love with her. And, for his family's sake, he would make her think it was true.

* * *

"What a lovely bride you make, Cora, dear," Mrs. Watson gushed.

Cora smiled at herself in the full-length mirror. The ladies sat in a dress shop in London, Mrs. Levinson despairing over the archaic fashions of London.

Mrs. Levinson and her husband had arrived earlier in the week after Harold had retracted his earlier letter to their father. It was four weeks after Robert's proposal, Cora and Robert would be married within the month, although none of the Levinson's understood why it was happening so quickly. Lord Grantham seemed rather anxious to have his son's marriage secured. Harold only guessed, but he supposed it was due to the financial crisis. He told his father such, but he'd simply told Harold that his sister would not be swayed on the subject, so they must make the best of it.

"Don't you think it's a little unfashionable?" Mrs. Levinson asked, scrutinizing Cora. The dressmaker looked positively murderous at this statement.

"To be sure, the silhouette is not so cut as one would find in America, but, of course, English fashions are timeless," the lady said shortly.

Mrs. Levinson raised her eyebrows coolly. "My, is that what the English say? How optimistic you all are."

Cora rolled her eyes at her mother as the dressmaker stalked away, muttering about finding something in the back.

"Oh, really, Mother, must you insult everyone you see today?" Cora asked.

Mrs. Levinson pursed her lips as she looked at her daughter. "These English are just so touching, I really don't know what's going to set them off."

Cora turned away, admiring the dress once again.

"Will the Viscount be coming soon?" Lissy asked. "Harold said he would."

Smiling at Lissy's mention of Harold, Cora looked at her friend. "No, we'll be heading back to Downton at the end of the week."

"I can hardly wait to meet this Viscount—or do I call him Robert? English customs are so bizarre," Mrs. Levinson commented. "Harold said his mother is a bit of a piece of work."

Cora nearly laughed. "She's very English," was all she said.

"We'll have such fun then," said Mrs. Levinson sarcastically.

Lissy and Cora exchanged a knowing look.

"I suppose you won't come with us, Lissy?" Cora asked. "I know Harold would love for you to come along."

"I'm afraid not," Lissy said, silently thanking the fact that her parents wouldn't allow her to go, although she would miss Harold.

"That's such a shame, Harold will miss you terribly," Cora said. Lissy blushed bright red and smiled before looking away.

"Oh, it really is," Mrs. Levinson murmured. "I love an audience."

* * *

Cora was extremely nervous as the carriage pulled into the lane leading to Downton Abbey. Her mother scrutinized everything they passed, every house and even every tree. It happened so frequently that Cora was beginning to be in a foul mood and the evening hadn't even begun. She'd been on edge for the past few days since their parents had arrived. Her mother was constantly berating everything English while her father couldn't stop talking about money. Cora was terrified that once Robert met them, he would decide it wasn't worth it and throw her over. Harold kept reassuring her that wouldn't happen, though to himself he said it was only because of the money. He knew this was a little unfair, as he thought any man would be lucky to have Cora for his bride—he just figured the Viscount wasn't in it for Cora's hand. But he tried not to bring it up with her, as he didn't want to make her upset when things were already so tense between them after their earlier shouting match.

"Oh, I do wish these English planted fewer flowers. My allergies have been terrible since we made port," Mrs. Levinson complained, pulling out her handkerchief.

"Mother, you're healthier than I am," Harold scolded. Mrs. Levinson waved her hand at her son.

"Stop it, Harold," she said, although her tone was one of pleasure.

Looking out the window, Mr. Levinson let out a low whistle. "My God, is that the place? It looks like some great king lives there. How much are these people worth, Harold?"

"Really, Dad, must you always talk about money?" Cora asked before Harold could respond.

"Don't worry, Cora, your father will be sure to ask," Mrs. Levinson said dryly. "How many people are out there waiting for us? Good Lord, are they expecting a dignitary?"

Cora rolled her eyes as the carriage stopped in front of the house. It did seem as though every member of the family as well as the entire staff stood in the drive. A footman hurried to open the carriage door, allowing Mrs. Levinson and Cora to exit first, followed by the men.

"Welcome to Downton," the Countess said, although she looked rather unwelcoming. The Viscount and his father both smiled though. In fact, Lord Grantham looked more pleased at their arrival than his son.

"Mr. and Mrs. Levinson, we're so pleased you're here," said Lord Grantham, stepping forward to shake Mr. Levinson's outstretched hand.

"Thank you, _Lord_ Grantham," Mr. Levinson said. Cora clenched her jaw at her father's emphasis. "We're so interested to know more of you."

"And we of you, sir," Lady Grantham said. Robert forced himself to not roll his eyes at his mother's comment. _Must she be so obvious?_ He asked himself as his father bowed to Mrs. Levinson, who looked either disgusted or suspicious of the entire affair. It was difficult to decide which option was more promising. Robert met eyes with Cora, who smiled apologetically at him.

"My wife, Lady Grantham and, of course, our son, the Viscount Downton," said Lord Grantham. "Our daughter, Lady Rosamund will be joining us for dinner as well. She's gone up to London for the day, but she'll arrive soon."

"How lovely," Mrs. Levinson muttered unconvincingly.

"Please, do come inside so we can get you settled," Lord Grantham said, still congenial as ever. Cora was amazed by his unflappable manner.

"Thank you," Mr. Levinson said. The group headed inside, Cora trailing behind with her brother. Robert stepped in next to her, giving her a quick smile.

"Now, Carson," Lord Grantham interrupted, turning to the stiff butler. "Please show the Levinsons to their rooms and help them with anything they may need. Our staff will be more than happy to help you dress for dinner. We'll dine at eight."

They began to disperse, Cora overhearing her mother mutter something about "Can't these English dress themselves?" before following one of the ladies' maids up the stairs.

"Cora," Robert said.

She turned to look at him. "Yes?" she asked.

Robert took her hand and Cora's heart skipped a few beats. "I'm so happy you're here," he told her.

Cora's cheeks reddened, but she didn't look away. "So am I," she said sincerely.

He smiled, softly pressing his lips to the back of her hand before releasing it.


	7. Chapter 7

(Since I haven't done this yet, I just want to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorite thus far! Your feedback is very helpful and also extremely encouraging to read and I really appreciate it. This is my first Downton fic—only my second fanfic altogether—so it's really nice to have such loyal and fantastic readers. BONUS: Early(ish) update because you are all awesome! Anyway, onto the next chapter!)

**Chapter Seven**

During dinner, Cora sat to the left of Lord Grantham while Robert was seated beside her own mother. She found the English custom of seating guests in the manner rather annoying, as she was far from Robert and she was sure her mother was being snide. At the beginning of the meal, she watched them, hoping her mother wouldn't nag him too much, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, although he couldn't keep his own eyes off of Cora for long.

Robert felt rather uncomfortable next to Mrs. Levinson. He wished he could have sat beside Cora, only for the reason that she was less cynical regarding the English and their traditions than was Mrs. Levinson. She was very quick witted like his mother and rather humorous, but it was as though she intentionally got on poorly with Lady Grantham. Not that Violet was making any great strides to be friendly to any of the Levinsons. She simply sat back, looking more haughty than usual, while the others conversed.

Lord Grantham was in his element, smiling and making conversation with all the Levinsons, but Mr. Levinson in particular. Lord Grantham intended to make the father more comfortable with the idea of allowing his only daughter to marry into the Crawley family. If he would allow it at all.

"My dear Mrs. Levinson, have you ever been in England before?" Lord Grantham asked, directing his attention to Cora's mother. Robert was thankful, for he'd grown tired of pretending her rude comments were not offending.

"No, I have not," she said in a curt tone. Robert forced himself to not roll his eyes and smiled at Cora instead, who looked rather apologetic for her mother's behavior but still happy. "It seems to rain most days here," Mrs. Levinson added as the footmen brought around the dessert. Robert was glad the meal was nearly over, although the night was still too young for his comfort.

"Oh, is America the land of perpetual drought?" Violet asked coolly.

"Of course not, Lady Grantham," Harold said, noticing the tense turn of the conversation. The two matriarchs did not seem to care for one another.

"It does seem to rain in New York far less than it does here. How do the English stand it? I couldn't bear to not be able to go outside," Mrs. Levinson commented.

"Oh, we manage, we manage," Lord Grantham said with a smile. "I daresay the manufacturing of umbrellas is rather a lucrative business."

"Undoubtedly," Mr. Levinson agreed. "Pray, what is your main enterprise here? Surely, to live in this house—"

"We manage the estate, mostly," Lord Grantham said kindly. "Provide land for farmers, collect rent—those sorts of things, as well as investing in exciting new ventures."

A shadow passed over Violet's face at this mention. Robert hoped he was the only one who noticed.

"What types of ventures?" Harold asked as the plates began to be cleared away.

"Let's not bore the ladies with all this business talk," Lord Grantham chuckled, although Robert knew this was just for show.

"I think we'll go through," Violet said, practically sighing at the prospect. Robert knew his mother was not thrilled by the idea of spending time alone with Cora or Mrs. Levinson, despite the fact that Rosamund was there for a familiar face. Not that the mother and daughter ever saw eye to eye on anything.

The men all stood as the ladies rose and left the room, Cora giving Robert a fleeting smile before following after the others.

As Carson brought them cigars and brandy, the men shifted to one end of the table with Lord Grantham at the head and Mr. Levinson seated on his right. Harold did not look too enthused at the prospect of remaining with his father, although Robert was sure he would rather be anywhere else but Downton.

"Back to our previous topic, Grantham," Mr. Levinson said as Lord Grantham offered him a cigar. He took it, rolling it between his fingers before speaking. Carson set a glass of brandy beside Mr. Levinson, who took a drink and then said:

"The fact is, Harold has mentioned your financial difficulties to me—before the Viscount proposed to my daughter," Mr. Levinson said, straightforward. "What I want to know is why should I allow my only daughter to marry your son when I know her dowry will most certainly be snatched up to bail you out of your present crisis."

If Lord Grantham was taken aback by Mr. Levinson's brusqueness, he didn't show it. Robert noticed his father was as calm as ever, as though the sudden tension were a sedative to him.

"I understand your concern, Mr. Levinson, and I can assure you, if your daughter is to marry my son, she would be well looked after and any money changing hands in the process would not be wasted," said Lord Grantham.

Harold watched the Earl carefully during this little speech. He gave no appearance of talking his way out of the subject, no indication that his words were not trustworthy and honorable. It made Harold extremely uncomfortable, although he couldn't tell why. Perhaps it was because the Viscount had not spoken. Harold wished the man would come out with it: did he love Cora or not? If only it was not so inappropriate to directly ask such a question. In America it would not be so, but the English were so reserved about their emotions, which annoyed Harold to no end.

"But why the rush? Things seem to be rather hurried on this matter, Grantham. Your son has only known my daughter for six weeks. I find it difficult to believe an attachment of this nature has formed in such a short period of time," Mr. Levinson stated, flicking the ash off the end of his cigar.

"Of course, it does seem rather sudden," Lord Grantham began. "But I find no reason to slow it down. Why should Miss Levinson not marry the Viscount in order to remain in England while her friends travel on? I understand they are to leave for Rome soon. It makes it much simpler if our children begin their lives together as soon as they wish. I am not in the habit of refusing my children something which holds such weight in their minds and hearts."

Mr. Levinson did not respond for a few moments.

"You've been awfully quiet, Viscount," Harold piped up at last, feeling relieved at doing so. "Have you any defense of this marriage?"

"I had not realized I was on trial," was Robert's immediate response, in a voice nearly as congenial as his father's, although Harold noticed a small difference. The Viscount seemed almost nervous.

"Not at all, Viscount," Harold replied, taking a drink of his brandy. "I'm just wondering about the nature of your attachment—nay, your interest—in my sister. I can't help but notice that there's been no mention of love from your side. Why is that so?"

"I suppose I must seem very English, as I am not terribly comfortable expressing my feelings even when I feel them," Robert said, his intensity increasing slightly. "Please forgive me, sir, but I cannot behave in a way that is not in my character. I've made myself quite clear to your sister, who seems to find no fault with any of my declarations."

"Forgive _me_, but I believe my sister has been blinded by her own regard for you. Unfortunately for her, she is still very young and hasn't much experience with men who are deceptive," Harold said angrily. Robert physically pulled away from Harold, as though he had been struck.

"How dare you!" Robert spat, his own unjustified anger appearing.

"Harold, please," Mr. Levinson said firmly. "That is no way to speak to any man, let alone your sister's fiancé."

"Father, don't you find it interesting that the Viscount has never told Cora of his love for her. I have a difficult time believing that any self-respecting man, whether he be English or Chinese, would refuse to declare his love for his future bride unless he not feel it." Harold's voice was calmer now, as he attempted to sway his father's opinion.

Robert realized what he must do to gain the men's trust. Lie.

"Mr. Levinson, please believe me when I say that I care very deeply for your daughter. Cora is the loveliest, most exquisite creature I have ever beheld. I cannot imagine a more perfect woman, in both elegance and beauty, than your daughter. She is everything I've ever hoped for in a wife and, yes, though it is very difficult for me to say this, I do love her," Robert said, summoning all his powers of conviction and persuasion.

Mr. Levinson, at least, seemed to accept his words. Harold did not look convinced.

"Why haven't you told her?" Harold asked.

"It is painful for any Englishman to admit his feelings," said the Viscount uncomfortably. He hoped he would not have to make a public declaration of love to Cora. He felt he would not be able to bear what he saw as a humiliating prospect.

"Isn't it more important to be honest? Despite any pain we ourselves endure?" Harold asked.

"Harold, do not embarrass the Viscount. I daresay the English have their own customs and ways of doing things, as we have ours in America," Mr. Levinson stated.

"I think we should go through with the ladies—let them clean up in here," Lord Grantham advised, wishing to break up Harold and Robert.

* * *

Cora stared wistfully at the drawing room door, hoping that at any moment Robert would appear. Half an hour had passed since the ladies had left the dining room, and Cora had grown increasingly tired of her mother's cheek and Lady Grantham's own scalding remarks. She was sure the two women would never get along, no matter how much time they spent together. Rosamund was agreeable enough, but she seemed to enjoy her mother's dislike of Mrs. Levinson and, to a point, Cora.

Her heart started when the door opened and Lord Grantham entered, followed by a procession of the other men. Smiling, Cora got to her feet and walked toward Robert, but Harold intercepted her first.

"Come talk with me by the fire," he entreated.

Cora furrowed her brow. "Whatever for?" she asked. He knew very well she wanted to talk to the Viscount, but he wanted to talk to her first.

"I want to tell you something," he insisted.

"Harold, please," Cora said. "I've barely spoken to Robert today."

Harold sighed, realizing Cora was going to be stubborn. He'd rather not make a scene in front of the entire Grantham family just yet. He walked away, leaving Cora to think their interchange rather strange.

"Are you enjoying yourself this evening?" Robert asked when he'd reached Cora. He smiled at his fiancée, who did look very lovely. But he still did not love her.

"I am now," she admitted, her cheeks reddening. "But your sister is very witty, though I don't think our mothers are too fond of one another."

"Oh, never mind them," he said, taking her hand. Cora felt her heart beat skip at his touch as he led her away from the fire to a secluded corner of the room. "I want to tell you something, Cora," Robert told her, his voice as tender as he could make it.

"Oh?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"You know I love you, don't you?" Robert lied. He forced himself to sound believable. He knew he was, because Cora's face lit up as she smiled again.

"Of course," she said, blushing furiously at his declaration. She moved forward, kissing his cheek quickly. "And I love you," she told him.

Robert smiled back at her, and Cora was none the wiser.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_I can't do it. I can't do it. I can't do it._

Robert took a deep breath. Looking at himself in the mirror, his face was pallid and his hands shook as he wiped another layer of sweat from his forehead. His stomach was in knots and his heart beat as though he were running for his life.

Royce had left him in order to leave for the church, though he had not been shaking as he was now. As soon as he was alone the terror he'd been suppressing overcame him.

He walked over to the wash basin and heaved into it for a minute, although he hadn't been able to eat a thing earlier at breakfast. Wiping his mouth with the nearby towel, Robert straightened up, feeling worse than before. For a few moments, he stood, staring at the wall, seriously debating whether or not he would bother going to the church.

He dreaded seeing her, dreaded what he was supposed to do. To willingly enter into a loveless marriage, to deceive such a sweet girl who loved him, it was beyond cruel. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it. Already he grew tired of the deception. He had no idea how he could continue for another day, let alone for the rest of his life. He had to watch everything he said and every attention he gave to her felt wrong, as though he were cheating her out of the life she ought to have. Each time he looked at her, he had to force himself to appear as though he doted on her, as though he really cared for her. It was exhausting.

_I can't do it._

As he stood staring at the wall, there was a knock on the door. He didn't respond, but the door opened anyway, his mother entering, agitation on her face.

"Robert, Royce said you'd be right down. You don't want to be late to your own wedding," she scolded, shutting the door behind her.

Robert turned to face his mother, fear in his eyes. "I can't do it. I can't marry her," he blurted out.

Violet looked at him for a moment, as though surmising what words to say.

"You can," she said, tenderness entering her voice. "And you will."

"I can't marry someone I don't love. And you've been against it since the beginning. Mama, surely _you_ see how wrong it all is. All this lying and deception—I just don't see how it's worth it," Robert told her, his voice shaking.

She stepped toward him and, with uncharacteristic tenderness, took his hand. "You must," she said, her eyes gentle. "You are making a sacrifice for the future, Robert. Not just your future, but the future of the Crawley family. Your children, their children, will be able to grow up in our home, will be able to inherit the dynasty our family has worked for centuries to build. Do you really want to be the reason all that is thrown away? Because you were afraid to marry a lovely girl who happens to be in love with you?"

"She doesn't know any better," Robert insisted. "She's not in love with me, just the idea of me, or something. If only she knew that I don't love her, then she wouldn't want to marry me."

Violet raised her eyebrows. "And who's going to tell her? I know you, Robert. You will do your duty by Downton. If nothing else, you must do your duty."

Robert swallowed. He knew he would do his duty, however difficult it may be.

* * *

Cora's heart beat faster than it ever had before.

"You're so lovely, Cora," Lissy cooed.

The Levinson's had stayed in one of the cottages in the village the night before because Cora was not allowed to see Robert until the wedding. Cora took a deep breath, worry on her beautiful face as the final buttons of her dress were fastened.

"I'm so nervous," Cora admitted. "Suppose I fall walking up the aisle?"

"You won't," Lissy insisted as the maid fastened Cora's veil, her tiara holding it into place. "And your father will be there to help you."

A knock came on the door.

"Who is it?" Lissy asked, walking over to the door as Cora thanked the maid.

"The father of the bride," Mr. Levinson called through the door.

"Oh, I suppose he may come in," Cora said with a wave of her hand. Lissy chuckled, opening the door. Mr. Levinson entered in his morning coat, his eyes widening as he looked at his daughter.

"Do you think I look okay?" the daughter asked, her fingers running over the lace cuff of her sleeve.

"You are a vision, my dear," he said, walking forward to kiss her on the cheek. Pulling back, he looked at her for moment, emotion on his face. "How we will miss you, Cora," he said affectionately.

Cora blinked, trying to not cry. "Oh, Dad," she said, wiping at her eyes.

"I nearly forgot," Mr. Levinson said, letting go of Cora's hand. "Lord Grantham wishes to speak with you."

Cora's brow furrowed in surprised confusion. "Lord Grantham wants to speak to me?" she asked.

"Is it alright if he comes in? I don't know how these things are usually done," Mr. Levinson said, walking over to the door. "Miss Watson, could you leave us for a moment?" he asked, sending the maid away as well.

As the ladies left, Lord Grantham entered, nodding to Mr. Levinson. "I'm so sorry about pushing in like this," Lord Grantham said. "I just have some last minute business before the big event."

"What can I do for you?" Cora asked uncertainly.

"My, you are lovely," Lord Grantham said kindly. "Oh, right, I've spoken to your father about the question of your dowry."

"My dowry?" Cora repeated.

"Yes, my dear, you see, your brother was correct that Downton is in danger. Unfortunately, I made a rather foolish investment and I hoped you would consider contributing your dowry—which is very generous—as a part of the estate. My lawyer has written this up, which your father has already read over and all we need is your signature," Lord Grantham said, unfolding a sheet of parchment.

Cora looked at her father, who nodded, although he looked uncertain.

"What will happen to my money?" she asked, taking the paper and looking at the words without really reading any of them.

"As I said, it will form a part of the estate. Upon my death—hopefully not too soon—Robert will inherit my title along with Downton Abbey and most of the village. When your son inherits, the same will occur. It's still your money, but your signature will just be a way to ensure that Downton will survive as it should," Lord Grantham said kindly.

Cora looked at him for a few moments. She saw no reason why she shouldn't sign the agreement. After all, she was about to marry Robert. By itself, her dowry would be of little use. If she could help save Downton, she hoped it would raise her esteem among the family, particularly in the eyes of Lady Grantham.

"Of course I'll sign it," Cora said. Lord Grantham smiled widely.

"I'm so pleased, my dear," he said, handing a pen to Cora. She signed her name quickly before handing the paper back. "And I look forward to having you in our family."

Cora smiled her thanks.

"I best be off," Lord Grantham said, tucking the paper into his breast pocket. "We shall see each other again soon."

He left, and Cora and her father were alone.

"You really love him? The Viscount?" Mr. Levinson asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes. But not in the same way I love you, Dad," Cora insisted, kissing her father's cheek.

"Promise you'll write me often," he said, smiling sadly. "I couldn't bear to have my only daughter so far away and never hear from you."

"I promise," she told him.

"I suppose it's time, isn't it?" he asked, looking at the clock over the mantle. "I love you, my darling daughter."

"I love you, too," she said softly. He kissed her cheek one last time before leading her from the room.

(Sorry if the "signing the agreement" scene wasn't historically accurate or not like what you imagined. It just came out of my head and doesn't necessarily have to be exactly canon. I'm doing my best. Thanks again for reading!)


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

They'd been back from the honeymoon for less than a month when Cora realized it. It almost took her breath away.

_How could I have been so stupid?_ She asked herself one morning. She lay in bed, waiting for the maid to bring her breakfast. _Robert doesn't love me._

The disturbing thought forced her to get out of bed. She began pacing the length of her room, feeling as though she were about to be sick.

_Oh, God, why didn't I realize it before?_

She walked over to the window, from which the maid had drawn back the curtains ten minutes earlier to wake Cora. Looking out on the grounds of Downton, her mind wandered through the events of the past month.

Robert had come to her nearly every night since their marriage. And after every time they were together, he'd gone back to his own room to sleep. She'd thought perhaps the English simply slept in separate rooms, but after a few weeks of living at Downton, she'd discovered Lord and Lady Grantham shared a room, although his lordship did have the bed in his dressing room made up in case Lady Grantham was ill.

As she stood there, she remembered the night before, her mind playing it all back.

She'd been in bed, reading a novel, when there'd been a soft knock on the door. Instantly, she'd known who it was.

"Come in," she called, saving the page in her book as the door opened and Robert entered. From beneath his dressing gown, she'd seen the bottoms of his blue pajamas. He walked over to the bed, undoing the belt around his waist as she set the book on the nightstand.

"How was your meeting with Mr. Jarvis this afternoon?" Cora asked nervously. She still felt rather awkward every night that he appeared, always so unsure about what she should do or how she should act.

"It went very well. He thinks we can begin to bolster the value of many of the cottages in the village," Robert said, laying his dressing gown on a nearby chair. Cora nodded, playing with the ends of her hair as Robert climbed into the bed beside her.

"How did you get on in Ripon?" he asked, playing with the buttons on his nightshirt.

"Rather nicely, I think, although I'm hoping to find a new dress maker. Your mother's is so traditional, I really can't find anything I like," she explained, her pulse quickening as she thought of what was to come. She exhaled slowly, her hands beginning to shake. Robert nodded as she looked over at him. His jaw was set as he was lost in his thoughts.

"What is it, Robert?" Cora asked nervously, reaching out to touch his hand. He wrapped his fingers around hers, gently squeezing her hand.

"It's nothing to trouble you with," he told her after a few moments, half-smiling, although in that moment she hadn't realized the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

She nodded and smiled back at him, her heart racing as he looked at her. Without another word, Robert leaned over, his lips meeting hers, gently at first and then with an increasing intensity, cupping her face in his hands.

Back in the present, Cora inhaled sharply as she pulled herself out of the reverie. She hadn't realized her hands were shaking again, her entire body tense. It forced her to sit down in front of her dressing table. Looking at herself in the mirror, she thought of how Robert had held her for a few minutes after, but made no effort to continue the intimacy. He hadn't stroked her hair or even kissed her again. When ten minutes had passed, he'd extracted himself from her arms and pulled his pajamas back on.

"Good night, Cora," he'd said quietly. She remembered looking at him, feeling rather confused by his sudden departure.

"Good night," she replied, even quieter. He tied the belt of his dressing gown before entering the hallway. After he left, she'd fallen into an uncertain sleep, from which she'd awoken in the morning with the revelation that Robert didn't love her.

Cora felt so disgusted with herself, her stomach contracting in anger and emptiness as she stared at her reflection. She remembered how Harold had warned her that Robert may not love her, that he probably wanted her money more than her. She hated that he was right—hated that she had been so wrong about everything. How could Robert have fallen in love with her so quickly? It seemed ridiculous that she had thought he loved her. After his declaration following dinner one evening, he hadn't said it to her since. She never heard any of them share their feelings with one another, but she knew better now.

She was the one who was unloved.

Cora pressed her face in her hands as she began to cry. She felt so alone and ashamed. In her sorrow, she didn't hear a quick knock on the door before the head housemaid opened it and entered.

"M'lady, are you ill?" the maid asked, shutting the door behind her. She walked over and placed the breakfast tray she carried at the end of the bed.

Rather puffy-eyed Cora looked up from her hands and tried to force herself to respond in a steady voice. "I'm perfectly all right," she attempted to say, although her voice broke at the last word. "Oh, Elsie," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands once more. "Everything is horrid."

Tentatively, Elsie walked over to where Cora sat and placed her hand gently on her shoulder. "It's not as bad as that," she gently told the younger woman. Cora wiped at her eyes as she looked at Elsie.

"I just feel so alone here," Cora admitted, another sob escaping her lips. Elise looked at her with compassion.

"You're not alone, m'lady," Elsie said gently. "All the downstairs staff think you're so lovely and kind."

Cora forced a smile, though it looked more like a grimace. "Could I ask you something? But you must swear to not tell anyone."

Elsie looked rather uneasy. "Well, I suppose, m'lady," she said slowly.

"How do I tell if…if…" Cora began, but she trailed off, unable to say it.

"If what, m'lady?" Elsie asked, confused.

"I don't think Robert—the Viscount—loves me," Cora said quickly, her voice quiet. Elsie raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh, well, I'm sure he just…you know how Englishmen…" Elsie began, but, upon noticing the sadness in Cora's eyes, she stopped herself.

"He doesn't. And I don't know what to do," she said, covering her face her hands as the tears welled up again. Feeling compassion for her, Elsie patted the Cora's shoulder, allowing her to cry for as long as she needed.

Cora had feigned a headache all afternoon so she wouldn't have to deal with Violet, but she forced herself to attend dinner, although she knew she'd have to rebuff questions about her health the entire time. But she didn't want Robert to know what she discovered. And, she still hoped she was wrong.

That night, as usual, he came to her room. She debated telling him she was too tired, but, in spite of everything she'd come to realize that day, she loved him. And she let that be enough for another night.

"Mama says you were feeling ill earlier. Are you sure we don't need to call the doctor?" Robert asked as he pulled back the covers before sitting on the bed. He sounded hopeful for some reason.

"I'm fine," she told him. His face fell slightly, but he nodded.

_No doubt he hopes I'm pregnant. _She half-wished she were pregnant, believing if she gave him a son that he would love her.

"What did the tenants have to say about the renovations?" she asked as he pulled the covers over himself.

"They're pleased, I think. Except for old Mrs. Collins, but she's always been a bit mad," he told her. Cora nodded distractedly, her thoughts elsewhere.

"Are you sure you're well?" Robert asked, his voice more gentle. Instead of answering, she leaned over and pressed her lips fervently against his. Robert seemed to be caught off guard by her sudden friendliness, but after a few seconds, he kissed her back, resting his hands on her sides.

As his lips moved against hers, Cora's mind analyzed everything that was happening. _Perhaps he does love me,_ she thought to herself.

* * *

She lay with her head on Robert's chest, gently brushing her fingers against his arm. She thought he'd fallen asleep until he spoke.

"I should go," he muttered, shifting underneath her so she had to sit up.

"Please don't," she said as he moved to the edge of the bed. He looked at her, astonishment on his face. Instead of responding, he pulled on his pajamas, getting to his feet. Cora stood up, slipping into her dressing gown before hurrying over to where he stood. "Please stay, Robert," she entreated, grabbing his hands with her own.

His eyes widened slightly at her request. "I have an early day tomorrow," he fabricated. _Does she know what she's asking?_

"Oh, please don't leave," Cora pleaded, choking back a sob.

"I can't stay," Robert said uncomfortably.

"Please, please don't go," she repeated, touching his cheek with her fingertips. Sighing, he wrapped his fingers around her hand. After holding it for a moment, he pulled her hand away. He watched as Cora blinked at him, a few tears escaping down her cheeks.

"Good night," he said in a quiet voice. He looked away, unable to bear the pain he was causing any longer. As he left the room and as he shut the door behind him, he heard her begin to cry.

Robert leaned his forehead against the wall, the sounds of Cora's muffled sobs reverberating through the door. _Now she knows, _he thought to himself. _Now she knows what a fool I truly am._

For the past few weeks, he had taken comfort in her ignorance, knowing she was perfectly content thinking he loved her. He couldn't decide if he was relieved or sickened by her revelation. He hoped the pain he caused her would be temporary, although he knew it could not be. He had deceived her in the most unforgivable way. She would not soon forget her pain. Nor would he.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

In the weeks following Cora's revelation, she avoided her husband as best she could, despite the fact that she longed to be near him. After leaving that night, he hadn't returned to her room again and only made conversation with Cora while in the company of others. He never sought her out and rarely did he smile at her. When he did it was forced and no longer reached his eyes. But now that Cora thought about it, they never had before.

Robert wanted to give Cora space. He knew it must be a shock for her, for any woman, to realize her own husband didn't love her. When he saw her, he was reminded of the pain he was causing her. Her interactions with the rest of the family were so different from what they once were, as though she'd become a shell of her former self. It was such a dramatic difference that even Violet began to notice.

It was after dinner one evening, and the small family party had retired to the drawing room. Rosamund and Marmaduke were among them that night, so the men had not gone through with the women as they usually did when Mr. Painswick was not with them. Cora had declined the invitation to play cards with Lady Rosamund and Lady Grantham and instead was seated by the fire, her eyes not leaving the flames.

"Mama, what is the matter with Cora?" Rosamund asked in an undertone, taking a drink from Mr. Carson. She'd noticed that Cora had hardly eaten anything at dinner and only held the cup of coffee the butler had prepared for her. "Is she ill?"

"Oh, I don't know," Violet answered, watching her daughter-in-law. "Perhaps it's something else."

"Something else? Do you think that possibly Cora is pregnant?" Rosamund whispered quickly, her eyes darting to where Cora was seated.

Violet thought for a moment, but before she was able to answer, the men walked in with Lord Grantham in the lead.

"I was almost certain you ladies would be having a far better time without us, but it seems you're all in low spirits this evening," Lord Grantham joked, walking up to his wife.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Not all of us. Just one," she muttered, nodding toward Cora. Lord Grantham turned his head, taking in Cora's state.

Robert had entered the room last, loitering near Carson as the butler poured him a drink. He glanced at his wife, noting her vacant stare into the flames of the fire, pain filling her eyes as she realized the men had entered the room.

Unwillingly, Cora looked over at Robert and her hands started to shake. She blinked away a few tears as she turned her head from him, but he noticed her chin was quivering ever so slightly.

"Cora, dear, are you ill?" Lord Grantham asked, moving toward Cora's seat.

She stood up very suddenly, her coffee nearly spilling as she sat it on a nearby table.

"I'm not feeling very well, Lord Grantham. I'm sorry, please excuse me," Cora muttered quickly before rushing from the room.

"Oh, my dear—" said Lord Grantham as Cora hurried out. "What on earth?" he asked after the door shut behind her.

"I haven't the slightest idea," Violet answered her husband.

The rest of the family turned to look at Robert, who was startled by his wife's behavior, but not entirely surprised. He knew she couldn't stand to be in the same room as him.

"Robert, what is the matter with Cora?" Rosamund asked, interested to know the answer purely for gossip purposes. "Is Cora emotional because she's pregnant?"

"I highly doubt it," he replied after forcing himself to swallow some whiskey. He knew she couldn't be. Not now.

"Then what is she so perturbed about? Have you had an argument?" Violet interposed.

"No, no," he told them. "Perhaps she's just tired."

"But she's been acting strange for days," Violet observed. "Are you sure she's not pregnant? Do you think we should send for the doctor?"

"I'm sure that's not necessary," Robert insisted.

"You should go to her, all the same, and see if she needs anything," advised his father.

"I think she should be left alone to rest," Robert told his father. He was almost certain he was the last man in the world Cora wanted to see. "One of the maids could check-in on her later."

"Oh, really now, Robert, is that any way for a husband to treat his wife?" asked Rosamund, who sounded as though she was enjoying herself far too much.

Violet shifted forward in her chair, a look of recognition passing over her face. "I think Rosamund has a point. How would it look if Cora realized—?"

"Realized what, Mama?" Robert burst out. "If my wife realized that I don't love her. Oh, yes, how _would_ that look? Perhaps a bit like it does now."

No one spoke for a few moments following Robert's flare-up. He shut his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath before speaking again, his voice calm once again. "I will check on her, if you like," Robert told them, "but she doesn't want me to. She can't stand the sight of me anymore." He set his glass down on the side table before turning to leave the room.

Lord and Lady Grantham exchanged a look as the door shut behind their son.

* * *

Cora stood by the window, her hand pulling back the curtains so she could look out into the darkness. The moon was hidden behind the clouds, so no light fell on the grounds.

Elsie had come a few minutes after Cora had made it to her room, helping the trembling lady out of her evening finery and into her night gown. After offering Cora any number of comforts, Elsie left, feeling terribly sad for the troubled younger woman.

Cora's eyes stared into the darkness, unseeing. The dull ache that had filled her body in the past few weeks had intensified during dinner, as it always did when she was forced to be near Robert. Even as she thought his name, tears welled up in her eyes and fell unnoticed on her ashen cheeks.

She started when there came a knock on the door, but she didn't turn around and didn't respond to the request to enter. Still, the door was opened, as Robert slipped inside.

"Are you ill? Do you need the doctor to be sent for?" he asked quietly.

Cora swallowed, the gentleness of his voice tearing at the ache in her chest. "I'm all right," was all she managed to say, her voice quavering. "I just want to be alone."

Robert did not speak, but he did not leave either. Instead, he was watching her, noticing the way her shoulders shook, her hand trembling on the drape she held aside. He could not tell if the mood he felt at the sight of her was annoyance or concern or self-loathing. All at once, he wanted to leave the room and never see her again, but at the same time he wanted to go to her, to take her into his arms and apologize, to try any way to ease her pain, but he simply stood motionless.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled after a long silence.

Cora turned her head, her eyes meeting his. "Sorry?" she asked raising her eyebrows. She turned to face him. "Well, that makes everything better, doesn't it?" Her voice was much more spiteful than she intended, but she didn't care.

"Of course not, but I didn't mean for this to happen," Robert said, the intensity of his voice rising.

"What did you mean to happen?" Cora asked. "That we would marry and I would die before you ever had to touch me, but at least you'd have the money?"

She felt instantly that she shouldn't have said it. She knew hurting him would not make her feel less wounded, but she could not stop herself. Robert pulled back from her as if she'd taken a swing at him, shock on his face.

"I'm so sorry," Cora whispered as her eyes wet with tears once more. She pressed her face into her hands, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

Robert looked at her for a few seconds, all the more surprised that she had apologized for her words. _How ironic that she should be the one apologizing to me. After everything I've done, why does she still care about me?_

Tentatively, he took a few steps toward her. Feeling extremely awkward, he wrapped his arms around Cora and patted her back gently, unsure of what else to do. She cried for a few minutes, but eventually pulled away, confusion on her beautiful, tearstained face. She didn't understand why he had come to her room at all.

Cora wiped at her eyes as she looked at her husband, still in his white-tie and tails. He was so handsome and regal, she forgot herself. She pressed her lips fervently against his, her hand on the back of his neck, her fingers touching the ends of his hair.

Caught off-guard, Robert kissed her back, realizing how much he'd missed her. He knew it was merely for physical reasons, but he was surprised by it just the same.

* * *

Robert looked over at Cora, who was curled up beside him under the blanket, her eyes closed. His evening clothes lay in a heap on the floor. He wondered how he was supposed to get to his own room when he had no robe and no pajamas to put on. He was sure it would be quite awkward if he rang for assistance and a maid appeared.

He mulled over his options for a few minutes, the sound of Cora's steady breathing the only noise in the room.

"Robert."

He turned his head and looked at Cora again. Her eyes were still closed, although a small smile had appeared on her face as she slept.

_She's dreaming about me?_ He wondered to himself as he watched Cora sleep. She exhaled slowly, her eyelids fluttering as her smiled widened.

"Robert," Cora mumbled again, her tone so gentle and sweet that Robert felt as though he were intruding on her private thoughts.

He watched her for a few moments more, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on his wife's lovely face. _How could she still love me after all the lies, all the pain I've caused her?_ He thought. And yet here she was, dreaming about him. He was surprised that it seemed to be a pleasant dream, but at least she could find solace in her dreams. Even if _he_ was not the man of her dreams.

He extracted himself from the bed, sure he could stay there no longer. He had to leave, for reasons far deeper than his understanding reached. She had continued to mutter his name, her voice sweet and content, which made him extremely uncomfortable. The only option he saw was to put on his evening clothes again, a feat which proved rather difficult in the dark as he attempted to make almost no noise. He nearly fell over twice when pulling on his pants and he missed the first button on his shirt, so it was lopsided. Neither realizing this, nor wishing to remain in the room, he grabbed his shoes and whatever else he could carry and slipped out of the room as silently as possible.

The sound of the door shutting woke Cora. Disoriented, she looked around the dark room, her eyes searching for the Robert who had just inhabited her dreams. She saw she was alone again, but the covers on the other side of the bed had not been smoothed down. Touching her fingertips to the spot where Robert had been a few minutes before, she felt the heat that had not yet left the sheet.

Her eyes glanced at the floor, where Robert's bowtie lay. In his haste to leave her room, he'd dropped it. She slipped out from under the covers, wrapping the top blanket around herself, and treaded softly to the tie. She bent down and rubbed her fingers against the fabric as she straightened up once more. Tenderly, Cora pressed her lips against it before sitting on the edge of the bed. As she looked at the tie, tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered how different her dreams were from the truth.

(Thanks for reading! Please review, I'd love to hear any comments or suggestions.)


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Robert stared out the window of the coach as it meandered through the streets of London. He stifled a yawn as it halted to allow a pedestrian to pass.

"Cora seemed out of sorts last night," Lord Grantham observed. "Is that still…?"

"Yes," Robert said in a gruff voice.

"Now, I don't want to annoy you, but you know I'm anxious to settle the succession. And all this estrangement and being so elusive around one another really won't do. How long has it been since you—?"

"Really, Papa, I will not talk about this with you," the son grumbled. How dare his father ask such personal questions, especially of a nature such as that?

"Robert, you don't seem to understand that you_ must_ have a son, an heir, to inherit the estate and your title. And no matter what you _feel_ your son must be Cora's son—whether you take a mistress or not is up to you."

Robert gaped at Lord Grantham, astonished he had suggested such a thing.

"Would you have taken a mistress, Father, if your relationship with Mama was like mine?" he threw back.

"Men have certain needs, Robert," Lord Grantham began carefully. "I don't pretend to be a saint."

The son held up his hand. "Please, go no further. I do not want to hear anymore," Robert instructed. "My present situation with Cora is none of your concern."

Lord Grantham rolled his eyes. "It is every bit my concern," he said sternly. "Cora's fortune is not enough. You must have a son. You must. Or we will lose everything we've worked for. Don't you even like her?"

Robert glared as he looked out the window. "What does that have to do with anything? Of course I do, she is a very agreeable and pretty woman. But, do not forget, she does not much like _me_ at present. In fact, I'm sure she cannot stand me."

"I believe you are wrong," Lord Grantham told him. "I see the way she looks at you. She loves you still, despite all your blundering about and acting like a fool."

He raised his eyebrows in annoyance. "I'm the fool?"

"Of course you are, because you are unwilling to accept Cora's love."

"It's because I do not feel the same way," Robert insisted.

"Why do you keep insisting that you don't love Cora?"

"Because it is true."

Lord Grantham looked knowingly at Robert. "So you say, so you've been saying for nearly seven months. But why does the thought of having a mistress so repulse you? And do not tell me that it is your morality, because I do not believe that is the truth. Perhaps you do not know yourself as well as you think."

Robert rolled his own eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Your mother and I are leaving the day after tomorrow. Take Cora out that night. You need a son, Robert. And soon."

He didn't respond, turning his head to look out the window once more. Robert didn't understand why his father was so adamant about forcing him and Cora together.

"Have you any idea when Robert will return? Cora, did you hear me?"

Cora looked away from the window facing the streets of London. It was mid-January and the city was gray and chilly, much less inviting than when Cora had last been there before the wedding due to the tepid atmosphere.

"Cora?" Violet repeated, her voice showing her contempt for her daughter-in-law's inattention.

"He did not tell me," she said, failing to maintain a sweet tone. She wished she had not been forced to come with the others, although Lord Grantham would not hear of her staying at Downton alone. The family had traveled to London for a family party, although the stay extended far beyond the gathering. The men had business dealings to manage during the day before the first of the year, leaving the women to haunt the house with even less to do than while at Downton. Violet frequently made calls, often forcing Cora to accompany her, but she often got out of them by pretending to be too tired. She knew Violet believed her to be pregnant, but Cora knew it could not be so. Robert hadn't come to her for nearly two months. A relief and a burden.

"How unlike him," the Countess muttered. "Shall I ring for tea?"

"None for me please. I think I'll go for a walk," Cora announced, getting to her feet. Violet looked quite surprised.

"Are you sure, my dear? You can't go alone, surely."

"I'll be perfectly all right. I'd just like some fresh air. I'll be back in time to change," said Cora.

Upon reaching the hall, Cora informed the butler of her plans.

"Are you sure that's wise m'lady? I've been told it's a bit cold outside for a walk," Carson said tentatively. He was still unsure about his position in regards to the Viscount's American wife.

"Thank you for your concern, Mr. Carson," said the young lady kindly. "But I'm not afraid of a little cold."

The man couldn't help but smile as he went to fetch her coat and gloves. The woman had spirit, he was sure of that, although she had not seemed like herself in the recent months. Ever since the Viscount's announcement at dinner that she had discovered his lack of affection for her, Carson had seen the change in her for himself.

"Thank you, Mr. Carson."

"Do be careful, m'lady," Carson advised. She nodded, a small smile on her face, before turning and leaving the house.

Cora was glad of the chill in the air. The stuffiness of the London house had begun to dull her senses, in more ways than one. She hated the house, the way people seemed to always be coming into it and, at the same time, the emptiness of it. Perhaps her estrangement from Robert had something to do with her disdain for the dwelling, although she did not care much for the city either. Every where she went, Cora was reminded of the lies Robert had told her in the beginning, how he had made her believe that he loved her.

After all this time, she wondered why she did not hate him. Yes, she felt pain at the sight of him and often the thought of him brought tears to her eyes, but still she loved him. Every day, she waited for that love to turn to something more bitter, but it did not change. In fact, with each day, she found she loved him more than the one before, despite his imperfections and shortcomings, despite his apparent dedication to feeling nothing for her. She loved him without reason and without cause.

She walked without realizing where her feet were taking her, without remembering Carson's encouragement for caution. But she did not get too far before she was recognized. Actually, she nearly crashed into another passerby.

"Oh, please forgive me. Lady Downton?"

Cora looked up at the man, who she recognized instantly.

"Edwin, how nice to see you!" she said cheerfully, grasping his hand. "How have you been?"

"Quite well, Lady Downton," Edwin said, smiling as he looked the woman over. "Though not as well as you, my dear. I see you are as lovely as always, if not more so."

"How kind you are, and what a liar," Cora teased. Edwin laughed.

"And how is the Viscount? I have not had the pleasure of meeting him yet, although the party we're all in town for is just a few days away," he said congenially.

"Very well, thank you," she said, her voice rather stiff at the mention of Robert.

"Oh, dear, have I struck a sore spot?" Edwin asked, raising his eyebrows in genuine concern. "Should I speak with him?"

"There's no need for that," said Cora, attempting to appear good-natured once again. "Nothing to trouble you with."

"I may speak with him anyway. He must realize he needs to treat a goddess such as yourself with absolute devotion."

Cora blushed from embarrassment at his words. "Please forgive me, Edwin," she muttered, taking her hand from his. "I must get on."

"Of course, m'lady," Edwin said, slightly suspicious of her behavior. "Do give my regards to the Viscount and inform him I shall call on him soon."

With a nod, Cora bid him good-bye before she hurried away, unsure of where she was going.

Robert turned the corner his mind full of facts and figures as he walked back to the house. He had foregone the carriage, glad of a walk in the crisp winter air. Lord Grantham had gone back in the carriage, eager to discuss a few things with his wife.

As he walked, Robert glanced to the other side of the street, his eyes stopping on a woman hastening in the opposite direction. He recognized his own wife instantly, his brow pulling together at the surprise of seeing her. He debated leaving her alone, but she looked so perturbed and positively unlike herself that he worried she might walk in front of a carriage or barouche and injure herself.

"Cora!" Robert called out as he caught up to his wife.

Cora stopped dead, her eyes wide as she looked up at Robert. "R-Robert," she stammered, surprised and upset by his sudden presence. "W-what are you doing?"

"I decided to walk home from Murray's. Father took the carriage, but I was glad of the walk. But what on earth are _you_ doing out here? It's colder than the North Pole," he joked.

"I just felt like a walk," Cora informed him, her hands beginning to shake from the cold.

"But it's freezing. Come, walk back with me to the house," he said, offering her his arm.

Cora blinked back tears at his sudden concern for her welfare. "Why?" she asked, looking from Robert's arm back to his eyes.

"Because it's cold and if you don't turn back now, you won't have time to change before dinner," Robert said sensibly. "Which would naturally make Mama furious."

"She already hates me enough as it is," Cora said, carefully taking his arm. Robert pressed his lips together as they began to walk back the way Cora had come.

"No she doesn't," he said after a minute of thought.

"Doesn't she?" Cora asked, surprised she was able to make conversation with her husband.

"Mama is not very at ease wish showing emotion," Robert stated, uncomfortable with his own words.

"I still don't believe she doesn't hate me," she replied with a sigh. _Who doesn't? I'm sure they all hate me or at least dislike me greatly. Even Lord Grantham is simply putting on an act. It was his reckless investing that got his family into such trouble in the first place._

"Perhaps I should speak with her," Robert suggested.

She looked over at Robert who gave her a tight-lipped smile before looking away from his wife's astonished face. She wondered why he was being so kind. Surely he did not love her now—they barely spoke and he intentionally made himself scarce around the house. Especially while they had been in London, Robert had "worked late" or been away on business almost every evening until dinner.

"Cora, I was wondering if you'd enjoy a trip to the theatre two evenings from now. After the family party?"

Her brows drew together in confusion. "Go to the theatre? With Lord and Lady Grantham, or Rosamund?" she asked.

"Just us," Robert said casually. "Papa and Mama are returning to Downton that day, but I thought you might like to stay an extra day or two and take in a show. I remember you enjoy the theatre immensely."

"Yes, I do," Cora replied, more confused by Robert's remembrance of her love for the theater. She was sure he was just being nice, although she had no idea why.

"So, would you like to go?" he repeated.

"I would," Cora told him, her voice even, yet Robert could hear the questioning tone in her words.

Robert nodded in affirmation, but did not speak the rest of the walk back to the house. Cora was extremely confused, but rather curious at his sudden interest in her. She decided to let him be and not press for any more information, despite the fact that she desperately wanted to know if anything had changed.

(More to come soon-please review if you wish! )


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Self-consciously, Cora looked at her reflection in the mirror once more.

"Oh, are you sure this color is okay, Elsie?" Cora asked the maid, a nervous tremor in her voice.

"You look lovely, m'lady," Else assured her, fastening the final buttons on the indigo evening dress.

"Do you think…the others will like it?" she asked slowly. By "others," Elsie knew she meant the Viscount. And it broke Elise's heart, although she rarely voiced her opinions on the subject matter to even her closest friends downstairs.

"I'm sure they will think you are quite perfect, m'lady," Elsie said gently. Cora nodded, taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves before heading downstairs.

* * *

"Must she always take so long?" Violet complained from her seat on the parlor sofa. Standing behind his wife, Lord Grantham rolled his eyes.

"Must you complain about it every time?" Lord Grantham asked, in a tense mood because he hated obligatory family parties-especially when they were for his cousin's wife's nephew's engagement to an Italian.

"I only says so because I believe she takes much too long," she replied curtly.

"Perhaps she wants to put off coming down for as long as possible," Robert observed in a quiet voice.

"I'm so sorry for the wait," Cora said, entering a moment later. As every head in the room turned to look at Cora, Robert jumped to his feet. He was sure she was perfection itself. He gaped at her for a few moments, taking in every one of her features: how her dark hair framed her glowing face, the way the dress fit every curve of her body. Her cheeks reddened as she noticed Robert's unwavering stare, feeling extremely insecure.

"Don't apologize, my dear," Lord Grantham said, realizing with satisfaction why his son would not speak first.

"May we go?" Violet asked snappishly. Unwillingly, Robert tore his eyes away from his wife, not fully understanding what she had begun to do to him.

* * *

The room was too warm for Cora. For a family gathering, there were far too many people present. She wanted to ask Robert if they could leave, but he had excused himself to speak with some of his cousins, while Lord Grantham was deep in discussion with a few of his associates who had also been invited. So Cora sat next to Violet who was having a conversation with one of her husband's cousin's wives, both of whom were complaining about the number of people at the party. Cora was terribly bored and rather tired from the warmth of the room. Some younger people were dancing, adding extra heat to the room, but they at least seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Cora sighed, although not even Violet could hear her over the music and loud din of conversation.

"Excuse me, Lady Downton, would you like to dance?" A young man had approached, a smile on his rather handsome face. Cora remembered she had been introduced to him, but she had no idea what his name was or how he was related to the Crawley family or if he was at all.

"Well, yes, I suppose," Cora consented, not knowing how the English really did these things. She took his hand and he led her over to the other couples.

"You looked incredibly bored, if I may say so," the man said pleasantly.

"Well, I do not know many people here," Cora admitted.

"You know me, don't you? Or, at least we've been introduced."

"I've met so many people tonight, I'm so sorry," she said with a smile.

"I consider it an honor to be forgotten by such an astonishingly beautiful lady, ma'am," he replied, returning her smile. "But my name is Stephen Watson. I'm not a direct relation to Lord Grantham, but I am close friends with one of his cousin's sons, which procured me the invitation to this rather overcrowded party. At least I had the good luck to be able to dance with you."

Cora laughed, something she hadn't done for a long time. "How charming you are, Mr. Watson," she said demurely.

"As are you, my lady," Mr. Watson said, grinning. "Your husband is a fool for not taking better care of you."

She smiled but said nothing, agreeing, at least for a moment, that Robert was a bit of a fool.

"How long ago were you married?" he asked conversationally.

"At the end of June," Cora told him, not realizing he actually knew when they'd been married. And why they had been.

"And has it been a happy marriage so far? Or is that an impertinent question?" asked Mr. Watson, his eyes twinkling with laughter.

Cora felt rather uncomfortable. "Well, I've never been married before, so I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask," she said, dodging the question.

Mr. Watson chuckled, his hand moving slightly lower on Cora's waist. She felt the color rise in her cheeks as she glanced around, hoping no one was paying attention to them. Now she realized Mr. Watson was slightly drunk and she was not at all comfortable with his friendliness.

"That doesn't sound like a support of marriage to me. At least not your current one," he joked. "Especially since your loveliness exceeds even that of a goddess, Lady Downton. What husband would allow such an enthralling woman to be left alone?"

* * *

"Looks like old Watson is enjoying himself," one of Violet's nephew's commented. Robert looked away from the conversation he'd been having with the cousins on his mother's side, following their gazes to a man dancing with an exquisite lady wearing a dark blue gown.

"Good God, that's my wife," Robert exclaimed, surprised to see Cora dancing with a man whose hand was rather low on her waist. The other men made chortling noise as they watched for a few moments, making rather chauvinistic comments amongst themselves.

Overcome with sudden jealousy and suspicion toward this Watson fellow, Robert left his cousins, swiftly crossing the room to where they were dancing. Watson seemed to be bent on making Cora as uncomfortable as possible.

"Please, stop," she was saying as Robert came upon them.

"May I cut in?" Robert asked in a fierce voice.

Watson looked over, his inebriated expression rather amused as he took in Robert's irritation. "Viscount Downton, of course you may! My dear fellow, I was just telling your extraordinarily stunning wife what a shame it is she's married to you."

"How interesting," Robert said flatly as Watson let go of Cora's hand, although he kept his other hand on her waist.

Her cheeks colored with embarrassment while Robert's reddened from anger.

"Please excuse us," Robert said, taking Cora's arm and, rather rougher than he intended, leading her away from the drunken man.

Once they had distanced themselves, they began the requested dance, although Robert was very much distracted by recent events. He had no idea why he was so jealous of Watson putting his hands all over Cora. He tried to rationalize that he was annoyed by the conduct as a matter of propriety and a sense of honor regarding his family, of which Cora was now a representative, but he that did not explain the burning anger he felt remembering Watson's vulgarity and his mirth at Cora's obvious discomfort.

"Thank you," Cora said finally, greatly relieved to be back in the arms of her husband even though he did not seem to notice where he was.

After a few seconds, Robert looked at her, as though realizing for the first time that they were dancing. Surprisingly, his eyes softened, his thumb gently brushing against her hand.

"There's no need to thank me," he said, his voice more tender than Cora had heard it since before they were married. "It was very inappropriate for him to be dancing with you in such a way."

Cora's face fell slightly at his practical words. "Yes, I—I did not realize that would happen," she said truthfully, embarrassed she had not been more discerning. She blushed at the memory of Mr. Watson's hand on her waist. "I'm sorry."

"Please, don't apologize," Robert said. "I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have left you alone."

Cora smiled slightly, although she didn't understand what his apology meant. She wondered why he shouldn't have left her alone. Maybe he had realized she couldn't possibly conduct herself like a lady. She knew she was over thinking, but his lack of explanation was irritating and confusing.

"You look very nice tonight," he told her, rather suddenly. His eyes were intense as he looked at her, causing Cora to blush at his flattery and his resolute gaze.

"Thank you," she murmured, her eyes bright with unwanted moisture. She couldn't remember the last time Robert had complimented her on anything, let alone her appearance.

Noticing her emotion, Robert looked away. _Why does she suddenly look more lovely than before? And why was I so angered by the sight of her dancing with another man? Surely, I don't…I can't possibly._

His thoughts continued to roam the rest of the dance, which they finished in silence. Despite the fact that he said nothing more to her, Robert did not leave Cora's side for the rest of the evening. The silence was vexing, although she was glad to have him near once more.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

After leaving the party, the Granthams arrived back at the house at a rather late hour. Cora waited up for Robert, in case he came to her room, but he did not appear. She sat by the window late into the night, watching fresh snowflakes powder the street below.

_Why did he not come?_ She asked herself, her chin resting on her knees as she sat hugging them to her chest as a few stray tears fell down her cheeks. She thought he would. Everything about his conduct that evening after separating her from Mr. Watson suggested that he loved her—or at least liked her enough to come to her room.

_What did I do wrong?_

Cora woke the next morning to find that Lord and Lady Grantham had already returned to Downton. She was relieved, for Violet had made a few scathing remarks in the carriage ride the night before about Mr. Watson's roving hands—a conversation Cora did not wish to continue.

"Is Cora still in bed?" Violet had asked as she put on her coat and hat in the front hall. Robert was at the writing desk in the small library, composing a note for his father to take to Mr. Jarvis.

"Apparently so," Lord Grantham said, glancing over Robert's shoulder as he wrote.

"Why is she so tired?" she asked loudly, as though hoping her voice would carry to Cora's room where she still slept soundly. "Was she up late thinking about Mr. Watson?" Her voice was much too gleeful for Robert's liking.

"Mama, please!" he nearly shouted at her. "Cora has no interest in the Watson and he was drunk. You act as though she had designs on him."

Violet pursed her lips and shook her head at her son. "Don't scold me, Robert," she demanded. "As a married woman, Cora should have known better than to dance with an unmarried man."

"Perhaps you should have told her instead of allowing her to be bamboozled by an inebriate," Robert stated, his tone accusing of Violet.

"I had better things to do than to keep tabs on your wife, Robert," she barked back.

"I'm sorry I didn't do it myself," he replied quietly, folding the letter for his father to take before handing it to him.

"We must go, my dear," Lord Grantham said. Robert looked at his father, who looked more tired than he'd ever seen him. "Remember what I told you," he added, meeting Robert's eye. The son sighed, knowing he was talking about Cora.

"We'll see you tomorrow afternoon," Violet said curtly.

"I'm sorry, Mama," Robert said, getting to his feet and crossing the room to where she stood. "I do not mean to be so bad-tempered."

She looked haughtily at him for a moment before responding. "Just look after your wife," Violet instructed. Robert chuckled before kissing her cheek quickly. She rolled her eyes at him, which he took as a sign of forgiveness, before taking her husband's arm and leaving the house, the second footman shutting the door behind them.

Partially alone, Robert looked up at the ceiling, his thoughts wandering inadvertently to Cora.

"What excellent seats," Cora commented as they sat in a private box to the left of the stage.

Beside her, Robert looked up from the program he had been reading, although she did not realize he had only been feigning interest in the cast biographies.

"Oh, yes, quite," he said in a noncommittal tone before returning his eyes to the program. The truth be told, he couldn't care less about the show, but he had heard Cora mention her interest in it when they first arrived in London. For a reason he could not properly explain to himself, he was exceedingly bent on making Cora happy. Even if he didn't want to admit it to her, or himself.

Cora looked at her husband for a moment. Noticing her eyes were on him, he looked up at her.

"What is it?" he asked. She pressed her lips together for a moment before speaking.

"Nothing," she said, turning her face toward the stage once again.

Robert kept his eyes on her, but she did not look over a second time. He desperately wanted her to look at him as she had before they were married. It seemed like such a long time ago, when her love for him was unquestioning and his was real—at least for Cora. He had no idea why he kept thinking about this, why he wanted her love now when he was still unsure he could give it himself.

The curtain went up and Cora leaned forward in anticipation as the overture began. Instead of watching the show, Robert watched his wife, taking note of every expression on her face as the plot moved from merriment to despair. She lost herself in the performances, as though forgetting he was beside her. During the saddest part, she looked genuinely upset, a few tears escaping from her eyes. Robert had seen Cora cry before, but this time was different. He realized she was truly heartbroken by her life and what had happened.

Without realizing what he was doing, Robert reached over and took her hand, jarring her out of her concentration on the show. She looked at him for a moment, her eyes shining with tears as she bit her lower lip. An expression of bewilderment passed over her face before she turned away, although she tightened her fingers around his.

Cora had no idea how the play ended. She was so distracted by Robert's hand on hers that her mind only focused on his touch, over thinking the reasoning behind it.

After the show ended, they did not speak. With the return of the carriage, Robert helped Cora into it, as he always did, but it seemed different, somehow.

"Did you enjoy the performance?" Robert asked as the carriage moved slowly down the street.

"Very much," Cora replied, her heart beating furiously for no apparent reason. She and Robert had been alone in the carriage many times before. _Why is it so different now?_ They were no longer touching, not even due to the smallness of the space.

"I'm glad," he replied shortly. Cora nodded before turning to look out the window without seeing anything that passed before her.

They arrived at the house, the silence unbroken for the rest of the trip.

"Good night, Robert," Cora said softly as they stood in the entry hall, wishing she knew how to ask him to her room.

"Good night," he replied, his eyes kind and gentle as he looked at her. He found himself hoping she would ask him to come to her tonight. He had not realized how much he missed her.

"I—I…what time are we leaving in the morning?" asked Cora, losing her nerve. She noticed that Robert's face fell almost imperceptibly at her question. She rationalized to herself that it was the lighting that made it seem this way.

"Ten," he murmured, disappointment pervading his tone, although he was unwilling to acknowledge this change. "Sleep well," he said. Without realizing what he was doing, Robert stepped toward Cora and pressed his lips gently to her forehead. "Good night," he whispered before turning and hurrying up stairs.

Cora stood unmoving in the entry hall for nearly ten minutes, the events of the evening replaying in her mind as she practically floated to her room.

(Merry Christmas—please review!)


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Mama, are you sure it's as bad as that?"

Robert stood in the hall outside his father's room at Downton, his mother standing by the door. The doctor was in the room with Lord Grantham. Robert could hear his father laughing from behind the door. An April rain beat against the windows, the paleness of the light streaming through causing Violet to look ashen and tired.

"Yes," she said, her hands rather shaky as she held a handkerchief between her fingers. "Despite all his joking with that incompetent doctor. How _old_ is he?"

"Nearly thirty, I am sure," Robert told her. "I'm sure Doctor Clarkson knows what he's doing."

Violet rolled her eyes. "If you say so." She wiped at her eyes, although she was not tearing up. "The doctor says he has cancer. Where it is, he cannot tell us, but he says it's very bad, indeed."

Robert looked at his mother. She was bearing up very well for the shock the family had received. He felt less strong, placing his hand on the wall to steady himself. Noticing her son's pain, Violet reached for his hand.

"I did not realize—I had no idea that it would happen so…so very soon," Robert said after a few minutes. "I do not think I am ready."

Violet gave his hand a comforting squeeze. "You are, my dear," she said gently. "This is the life you were meant to lead."

"But there is still so much I don't know," he said hastily. "How can I, how can Cora, do what you have done for so long?"

"Your father and I were no more prepared for these roles than you are. When your grandfather died, we did not see how we could manage. But the estate you will receive is in a much better position than it was then—even with your father's failed investment. Cora's fortune has made it safe." Although Violet seriously doubted that the American heiress could fill the role of Countess of Grantham. She still only saw her money as useful.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened, the doctor standing in the doorway.

"Lord Grantham wishes to speak to you, Viscount," Doctor Clarkson said calmly. His eyes met Violet's for a moment, unsaid words passing between them.

"Thank you," Robert told him. He slipped into the room, the doctor shutting it behind him.

Lord Grantham lay on the bed with pillows propping him up, his thin arms resting on his stomach.

"Papa," Robert said, taking his father's hand as he sat on the bed at his side. "Why did you not tell us?"

"Please forgive me, but I knew nothing could be done. I thought it best to keep it to myself, to spare you all the unnecessary pain."

"Mama has said Rosamund will return soon," Robert told him, ignoring his father's words. "She insists on bringing Mr. Painswick despite the fact that Mama is furious about it."

"Robert, I must say something," Lord Grantham said with a sigh. "You will be Lord Grantham before the sun rises tomorrow."

"Papa—"

"Don't interrupt. I know I don't have much time left. But you _can_ do this," he said, holding his hand out for his son to take. Taking a deep breath, Robert clasped his fingers around his father's. "You must do this. Your mother will be here to help you if needed, of course, but the task of running the estate will be in your hands now. You must promise me that you will care for it much better than I have."

"Father, you have been most ardent in your running of the estate. I'm sure you have done all you can to the best of your ability," Robert insisted.

"There were many investments I should have not made, some choices I could have considered more carefully. But, at the time, I felt they were right and I have very few regrets. Except for not being able to let you marry where you choose. That is my biggest regret." Lord Grantham averted his eyes and blinked a few times, attempting to conceal the moisture in his eyes.

Robert looked compassionately at his father, his fingers tightening around the man's withered hand.

"Papa, do not say that," Robert told him. "I don't regret it."

Lord Grantham met his eyes, his brow furrowed. "Have you finally come to care for Cora?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not quite sure," he admitted. "She is still more lovely and kind than any woman I've ever met. But I do not regret her. I only regret that I am such a fool. Do you really think she can be the next Countess of Grantham?"

"I have much faith in her," the father said gently. "Her potential is great. You mentioned her kindness, and I believe that will serve her well as the wife of an Earl. She will be beloved—perhaps more than your mother. But don't tell her I said that. Death is supposed to be peaceful. I doubt it will be with your dear mother's nagging voice in my head. There's nothing worse than taking a quarrel to the grave."

Robert found himself laughing at his father's statement, the old man joining in.

"Go and fetch Cora, dear son. I wish to speak with her for a moment," Lord Grantham requested, his voice rather tired after the laughter. Robert gave his father a questioning look, but the old man simply lowered his eyelids slowly. Realizing he must do as his father asked, Robert got to his feet, swiftly leaving the room.

"Mama, do you know where Cora is? Papa has asked for her," Robert told his mother, who had been hovering by the door.

"Rosamund just arrived," she said absentmindedly. "I believe she's welcoming them."

Filled with sadness for his mother, Robert gave her hand a quick squeeze before hurrying to the entry hall. Sure enough, Cora was greeting Rosamund and Mr. Painswick, who were both a little damp from the rain falling outside.

"Brother, dear," Rosamund said as he hastened down the stairs. "How is he?"

"Papa has asked to speak with you, Cora," said Robert, ignoring his sister to meet Cora's eyes.

"With me?" Cora asked in confusion. Robert nodded before offering her his arm. Hesitantly, she took his arm, allowing him to lead her to Lord Grantham's sick room.

"Sir, you wish to speak with me?" Cora asked when she had entered the dying man's room, much to Violet's disapproval ("Before his own daughter sees him?"). Cora observed that he looked so small in the large bed.

"Cora, dear," Lord Grantham said. His voice was so faint she almost did not hear it.

She crossed the room to where he lay, taking his feeble hand in her warm one.

"I am very proud of you, my dear," he said gently. "You will make a fine Lady Grantham."

Cora's eyes filled with tears at this statement. "I hardly know what I am to do, sir," she said honestly.

"I have faith in you, Cora," he replied.

She blinked, wiping at her eyes with her other hand.

"Do not give up on Robert," he said suddenly. "I am sure he loves you."

"Dearest Lord Grantham," Cora said sweetly, patting his hand. "You have always been so kind to me. Whatever will we do without you?"

"Promise you won't give up on him, please?" Lord Grantham asked, a note of urgency in his voice.

"I won't," she said determinedly. "I couldn't."

He looked at her for a few minutes longer, a smile on his face, before closing his eyes slowly. She looked at him for a long while before realizing he would not open them again.

"Help! Please, Doctor Clarkson!" Cora shouted, still gripping his hand tightly. "No, please," she whispered, tears falling down her cheeks as the door whipped open. The doctor rushed in, followed by the rest of the family. Doctor Clarkson approached the bed, his fingers wrapping around Lord Grantham's wrist, searching for his pulse.

"I'm so very sorry, Lady Grantham," the doctor said after a moment, his eyes meeting Violet's. She was staring at her husband, her eyes strangely empty. Then, she walked forward to the other side of the bed and sat down next to her husband, her hand resting on his arm. As Cora watched, Violet suddenly began to sob uncontrollably, pressing her lips to her husband's limp hand.

Cora looked amidst the grief-stricken room, her eyes searching for Robert. He stood near the doorway, behind Rosamund and Mr. Painswick, who both looked shocked at both Lord Grantham's death and Violet's loss of composure, although Rosamund's eyes were wet with tears. Meeting her husband's eyes, she noticed an intense sadness in them that she had not expected. But instead of leaving the room, as Cora half-expected him to, he walked up behind his mother, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," Cora whispered. Only Robert heard her words over the sobs of his mother. He looked at his wife, desperation in his eyes. Without realizing it, Cora understood his meaning. She got to her feet, allowing Rosamund to take her place on the bed. Marmaduke patted Cora's arm gently before she left the room.

She walked in a daze down to the hall, where Mr. Carson was carrying a try into the parlor.

"Mr. Carson," Cora said, wiping her tears away quickly. He turned to face her, noticing the distress on her face.

"Yes, m'lady?" he asked in a solemn voice, already fearing the worst.

"Could you ask cook to just make up some sandwiches for dinner? I'm afraid most of us won't feel like eating," she told him shakily. Somehow, she managed to keep from breaking down, although Carson noticed the tremor in her voice.

"Of course, m'lady," he replied in a gentle voice. "I'll inform the staff of our terrible loss."

"Thank you, Carson," Cora said, nodding slowly.

"Would you like me to bring you anything, m'lady?" he asked in a fatherly voice.

"Some tea, I think. And more for the others, if they come down," she added as an afterthought. She had no idea what she should be doing. She'd never experienced the loss of someone that she could remember. Her Grandfather Levinson had died when she was two, while her other grandparents only visited on holidays. Even though Lord Grantham had not been her father, she felt as if the house had lost a great deal that day.

(So sorry about this—that's why I'm posting two chapters at once. Go read the next one! And thanks to Kristin at givenmylifetodownton for all her help and ideas with this so far! xoxo)


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

The funeral was held at the beginning of the following week. In the days leading up to it, Violet had regained her composure and was behaving as usual, although she was more reserved and stern than before her husband's death. Every so often, Cora thought she saw the lady's eyes fill with moisture, but the visual affliction was short-lived. The other members of the house were recovering in their own ways. Rosamund and Marmaduke were fairly improved, though they did not interfere with the solemnity of the house.

Robert, on the other hand, seemed to be miserable. He avoided everyone, excepting his mother, like the plague. Cora could only recall one or two times she had seen him before the funeral. She knew he had been dealing with most of the funeral arrangements along with the issue of his acceptance of his father's peerage, but he did his best to avoid the rest of the family altogether. Cora knew he must be suffering from the loss of his father and the trepidation that came with his new responsibility, but she wished she could offer him some encouragement and support. As it was, whenever she attempted to console him, he suddenly fabricated some new task for himself and left the room.

On the day of the funeral, she stood at her husband's side, as was expected. She was happy to fulfill her role here as he supported his mother, although Robert did his best to look at her as little as possible.

"Lady Grantham, I am so sorry for your loss," a villager by the name of Molesley offered Violet after the funeral had ended.

"The Dowager Countess of Grantham, Mr. Molesley," Violet corrected. "My son is now Lord Grantham, and his wife Lady Grantham." She glanced at Robert.

"Please forgive me," Mr. Molesley apologized, bowing first to Violet and then to Robert and Cora. "Lord Grantham, Lady Grantham."

Cora felt extremely strange being addressed as "Lady Grantham," but she realized that would be her title now and nodded her head to the gentleman with as much grace and lack of surprise as she could muster.

The dinner following the funeral was just as solemn and quiet as the event itself. A few families from the village attended, along with numerous relatives who had made the journey to Downton. Unfortunately, a handful of the relatives were staying for a day or two, leaving Cora to act as hostess since Downton was technically her charge now. Hers and Robert's, although he did not seem to be up to the challenge at the moment.

Cora was thankful that most of the relatives were tired from the journey that morning, so most opted to go to bed early. This allowed her to retire to her room early as well. She was exhausted from the past few days of planning and arranging and worrying. Mostly worrying.

"Good night, m'lady," Elsie said as she finished tying up the braid in Cora's hair.

"Good night, Elsie," Cora said with a sigh.

"Is anything wrong, m'lady?" the maid asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," she replied. "Only, I suppose now I'll have to find a proper lady's maid."

"I expect so, m'lady," Elsie said.

"Unless you'd want to take on the task? I've been very pleased with how well we get on, Elsie."

"I'm very glad you think so, but I don't know, m'lady. It isn't quite the way things are usually done."

"It's true, I have no idea how things are done around here," she admitted with a forced smile, her cheeks reddening from embarrassment. "But you'll help me until one can be found?"

"I would be honored," Elsie replied.

"Thank you."

Elsie nodded before exiting the room, leaving Cora with her anxious and negative thoughts.

She got into bed after pacing the room for a while. After realizing her eyes were too tired to read, she settled against her pillows, hoping sleep would take hold soon.

Just when she felt herself dozing off, a sharp rap came at her door, jarring her awake. She opened her eyes as the door opened and Robert entered. Cora had forgotten to blow out the candle beside the bed, so she could just make out his face in the dim flame. He looked terribly shaken, much more than she had ever seen him.

"Robert, what is it?" she asked, sitting up quickly. She thought perhaps something had happened to Violet.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked in an offhanded voice, although Cora knew he was faking.

"No," she lied. "What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep," he said hurriedly. "I was walking past and thought I might come in and check on you. How are you?"

Cora thought his behavior so strange that she simply stared at him for a moment before answering. "I'm all right."

"Good, good," he said with a nod.

"Robert, are you all right?" she asked slowly.

He looked away and sat on the other side of the bed, unwilling to show her weakness. Instead of waiting for his reply, Cora got to her feet and walked over to where he sat and took the place beside him, taking his hand in hers. They were oddly cold, for usually she found them to be warm.

"I feel so lost, Cora," he admitted after a minute. He looked down at their hands. "As though I've lost my compass."

"Oh, my dear," she said gently. Tenderly, she brought his hand to her lips and kissed it.

"What am I to do?" Robert asked in a quiet voice. He was strangely distracted by their sudden closeness and her sweetness.

"I hardly know myself," she replied, gazing at him.

"I feel so inadequate. All my life has been building up to this moment and yet I don't think I can be _him_. I don't think I can do it," he said uneasily.

"I believe in you," she said, her voice so loving that he looked up, overwhelmed with the impulse to kiss her.

"Cora, I—" Unable to find the words to express himself, his voice trailed off.

She looked at her husband adoringly, softly touching his cheek with her other hand. He gazed back at her, a small smile on his face. Cora could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears as his eyes stared into hers, noticing a tenderness in them that she had never seen there before.

Robert leaned forward, softly touching his lips to Cora's before pulling away slightly, resting his forehead against hers. She smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair. She kissed him slowly and more fervently, her fingers playing with the buttons on his nightshirt. He kissed her back, allowing her to unfasten the shirt before wrapping his arms around her.

* * *

She lay with her head on the pillow beside him, her pale eyes watching him carefully. She hoped he wouldn't leave. Not now.

Noticing her eyes on him, Robert rolled on his side to face her, gently touching his fingertips to her cheek before pulling away.

"I've missed you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Cora's heart still beat incredibly fast, causing her breath to catch in her throat.

"Me too," she said quietly. To hide the fact that her eyes had filled with tears she looked away, intently focusing on his hand as she touched her fingers to his. She had no idea if she was getting emotional because she was so happy or because she feared he would disappear.

"I was wondering," Robert began, a note of worry in his voice. Bewildered by his tone, she looked up at him again, not caring if he saw the moisture in her eyes.

"I hoped I might be able to stay here tonight. With you."

Cora's heart fluttered with surprise and bliss at her husband's request. She looked at him for a few moments, unable to fashion her incoherent and rather inane thoughts into words. Instead, she excitedly pressed her lips against his, her hand resting on his neck as her thumb brushed against his jawline. Beneath her kisses, Robert smiled and chuckled as she pulled back after issuing one last kiss to his neck.

"Is that a yes?" he grinned at her, feeling like a silly schoolboy once again.

"Of course, my darling," she said, snuggling closer to him. He kissed the top of her head and she sighed, resting her head on his chest.

"Cora?" Robert asked after a long silence.

"Hmm?" she murmured sleepily. It was so comfortably warm in the room with Robert there, so unlike what it usually was that she had nearly fallen asleep.

"I'm not sure how to say this," he began quietly.

He seemed to be nervous again, which worried Cora once more. She shifted her head so she could see his face.

"I've been rather foolish these last few months."

"What do you mean, darling?" she asked, touching her fingers to the back of his hand.

"I've haven't been entirely honest, of course you know that. But I haven't even been honest to myself. From the beginning, I told myself that I could not have feelings for you, that it was impossible, and so I made myself believe that I didn't. Things have changed—I've changed. But tell me, how is it that you have not wavered in your affection for me? I've been an absolute cad most of the time."

Cora smiled. "Yes, you have," she answered and he chortled. "But I never doubted your goodness. I loved you in spite of yourself, even though it was infuriating and heartbreaking and insane. I've never loved anyone as I love you."

Robert gently brushed his thumb against Cora's cheek as he looked at her, a tenderness on his face which he had not yet shown. "I'm so sorry I have not loved you as I should. I can be rather stubborn, as you can see. You must be the one who breaks this terrible habit," he said softly, lightly kissing her temple. "There is no one as perfect for me as you are."

"Nor I you," she replied, kissing his cheek before pressing her forehead against his neck.

"Oh, I am terribly imperfect. You must reform me," he joked.

"In the morning," she sighed comfortably, her eyelids growing heavy.

"I love you, my darling," Robert whispered into her hair.

Finally, she fell asleep with a reality more sweeter than her dreams there to meet her when she awoke.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Cora's eyes opened as her new lady's maid pulled back the curtains, finding the other side of the bed empty. She knew it would be. The night before, Robert had told her he had an early meeting and that he'd probably be awake before she was. This didn't stop him from staying up rather late.

Cora smiled to herself as her mind wandered to the night before.

"Shall I bring your breakfast up, your ladyship?" Miss Jenkins asked in an uncomfortable voice. She'd just noticed Cora's nightgown was on the floor.

"Yes, thank you, Jenkins," Cora said, carefully stretching her arms so she was still covered by the blanket. She knew Miss Jenkins wasn't used to the fact that Cora and Robert shared a bed.

With a nod, the other lady left Cora to fetch the tray. Sitting up, Cora burst out laughing. It was so wonderful to finally be able to make others uncomfortable over such a thing. Elsie had been rather surprised that first morning to find Lord Grantham naked in Cora's bed, although she'd quickly grown used to it after the first week or so, especially since he was always there. She usually averted her eyes and left to allow Cora to wake him.

Not wanting to embarrass Jenkins further, Cora slipped out of bed and grabbed her nightgown and pulled it on. She knew the maid would be just as uncomfortable tomorrow.

She entered the bathroom to splash water on her face, but she felt strange all of a sudden. She grabbed onto the doorframe to keep herself upright before throwing up all over the bathroom floor. Feeling extremely weak and rather disgusted by what had just happened she slunk back to bed to wait for Jenkins to return so she could ask her to call for the doctor.

"Robert, I must speak with you," Violet said in a firm voice. She entered the library, where he was seated at the writing desk, corresponding to some business notes. He placed his pen on the desk, looking up at his mother's perturbed face.

"Yes, Mama, what is it?" he asked, inadvertently sighing at her tone.

She narrowed her eyes. "I think it's time for me to move to the Dower House."

"Why ever would that be necessary?" he asked quickly. "I thought you and Cora were getting along well."

Characteristically, Violet rolled her eyes. "I hate to disagree with you—"

"Oh, you love to."

"—but I feel that I am impinging on your new life, Robert. You and Cora are constantly mooning over one another, which is not at all proper in public, and I am most uncomfortable about it."

"Would you rather we ignore each other completely and hate the other?" he asked, annoyed. "That doesn't sound like the most productive way to issue an heir. Besides, Papa would approve."

"I am just not comfortable with watching it every day. Which is why I think I should leave. After all, it's been nearly two months. It's not very far—I could even come to dinner and tea on a regular basis," she offered.

_Not every day_, he thought to himself.

"Well, I suppose you are right, though I'm sure the house will feel terribly small without you," he said.

"Not for long, I'm certain," she replied, unable to keep herself from smirking.

"I do not pretend to understand your meaning."

"Are you not aware that Doctor Clarkson is upstairs with Cora?"

Robert got to his feet very suddenly, fear striking him. "Oh, God, what is it? Is she ill?" he asked frantically.

Violet laughed at his panic. "Why don't you go and find out?"

Annoyed by his mother's easiness, he left the room, hurrying up the stairs and to Cora's room. He knocked a few times, nervously waiting to be admitted.

"It's Lord Grantham," he said firmly into the door, hearing movement on the other side.

After a moment, Jenkins opened the door and Robert quickly pushed past her. Cora was in the bed, some pillows propped up behind her, as Doctor Clarkson was packing up his bag.

"Please, tell me at once what is the matter?" Robert insisted, approaching the bed nervously.

"I'll leave you to tell him, Lady Grantham," Clarkson said, nodding to Lord Grantham. "I'll be back next week to see how things are coming."

"Thank you, Doctor Clarkson," Cora replied, unable to keep a smile off her face.

Jenkins left with the doctor to show him out of the house.

"What is wrong? Please, don't tell me you're ill," Robert entreated, sitting on the bed beside his wife.

She chuckled, grabbing his hand. "No, my dear, I am not ill," she told him. "Robert, I'm pregnant."

He stared into space for a few minutes as her words set in.

"Pregnant?" he asked, his face blank. "Heavens."

Cora's face fell at his apparent apathy. She looked down, her eyes filling with tears. Snapping out of his astonishment, Robert noticed Cora's distress.

"Dearest, why are you crying?" he asked gently, covering her hand with his other one.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"For what?"

"That I'm pregnant," she moaned, rolling away from him onto her side. Robert tried not to laugh as he leaned over her, resting his elbow on the bed as he tipped her chin toward him with his fingers.

"Oh, my dear," he chuckled, kissing her quickly. "I was just stunned for a moment. _I'm_ sorry."

"You're not angry?" she asked timidly, wiping at her eyes.

"Of course not, Cora," he insisted, beaming. "I'm very pleased. We're going to have a baby."

She smiled, wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pressed face against his neck. Robert scooped her into his lap, kissing the top of her head.

"Robert, I love you so much," she murmured, kissing his neck quickly.

"I love you," he replied, smiling bigger than he could ever remember. "Did the doctor say how long it's been?"

"He thinks about two months," she said, giggling impishly.

"My, oh my," Robert chuckled, smoothing her hair down. "It was bound to work sometime."

Pretending to be outraged by his impropriety, she leaned away, playfully swatting his arm. "How indecent, Robert!"

He laughed. "Let me be indecent, just this once," he said with a grin before kissing her fervently. His lips moved down to her neck.

"What if Jenkins comes back?" she asked. "You'll get so disheveled."

"She'd better not," he said in a low voice. "And you can help me straighten up afterward."

Cora laughed before kissing him back enthusiastically.

(Thanks to everyone who's sticking with me. Please review if you have any thoughts about it! xoxo)


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

She waddled over to the dressing table, carefully sitting on the stool so Jenkins could do her hair for the day. Being pregnant made Cora unusually tired, an effect she hated, as it often required her to stay in bed all day or marooned in the drawing room where she was often alone and unable to ring the bell. Not that Carson or Elsie left her alone for long when she was there. Both were extremely cautious with her, perhaps more so than Robert.

"Just three more months, my lady," Jenkins said in a consoling tone.

Cora forced herself to not roll her eyes. She was so tired of everyone treating her like an invalid or an infant. Plus, the pregnancy made her irritable, which annoyed her further. She hated not being in control of anything, not even her emotions.

"It's a very fine day out," Jenkins observed when Cora did not respond. "Nice for your walk."

"Yes," she replied in a tired voice.

"You're not too fatigued to go out, my lady?" Jenkins asked quickly.

"No! Just of everyone treating me like a helpless child," said Cora tersely.

"I apologize, your ladyship," Jenkins replied tentatively. She finished Cora's hair without speaking.

"Thank you, Jenkins," Cora said in a gentle voice. She felt awful for being so snappish all of the time. "I'm sure I must be a very tiresome charge."

"Not at all, my lady," the maid said, picking up Cora's nightgown and laying it over her arm. "Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you," Cora said, checking her hair one last time before getting to her feet. "Please ask Carson to tell his lordship that I am ready for our walk."

Jenkins nodded and left the room. Cora struggled to her feet and then waddled over to her bedside table to put away the knitting she had been working on earlier before Jenkins had allowed her to get out of bed. She looked at the small baby's sock, smiling to herself as she ran her fingers over the soft fabric.

As she was musing to herself, someone knocked softly on the door.

"Come in," she said, putting the sock away quickly.

"Good afternoon, my darling," Robert said when he entered the room.

"It would have been better if I had not been locked up here all morning," she complained as he came around the bed to give her a kiss.

"You were up rather late last night," he reminded her, brushing his fingers against her cheek.

"So were you," she said, kissing his palm.

He grinned. "You look lovely today," he said, wrapping his arms loosely around her.

"I look fat," she groaned. "At least you can still put your arms around me," she observed, laying her chin on his chest and looking up at him.

"Of which I am very glad," he replied, kissing her forehead. "Are you ready for our walk?"

"As long as you don't leave me early like yesterday," she said, pouting at him. "Jenkins made me come inside and then Elsie scolded me."

"Darling, you know you must be careful," Robert reminded her, kissing her forehead. "They're just worried about you."

"I thought _I _was in charge," she replied, leaning against him.

With a laugh, he tightened his grip around her waist. "You are in charge of me, isn't that enough? And our little one."

She wrinkled her nose at him and he kissed the end of it.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, for the little one inside Cora had issued a swift kick at Robert's abdomen. He looked at Cora, surprise on his face. "It just kicked me."

"Yes, it's been happening quite often now," she said, smiling as Robert placed his hand on her belly, enthralled by his active unborn child. "I think she's going to be rather feisty."

"_She_?" Robert asked.

"Well, I don't actually know, of course. And not that I've been pregnant before, but it feels like a girl to me," Cora admitted. "I know everyone will hope it's a boy." She looked down at Robert's hand, which was still on her stomach.

"It doesn't matter," he said gently. Cora looked up at him, her eyes filling with moisture. "At least, it's not all the matters. The most important thing is that you and the baby, he or she, is healthy. Whatever happens, happens."

"Oh, darling," she said happily, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him frantically. "I was so worried! When I thought it was a girl, I was afraid to tell you."

"You need never fear to tell me anything, my love," he replied, kissing her cheek softly. "No come and let's go for that walk. It's a splendid day out."

He led her downstairs and out the door to the gardens.

"If only I could venture outside more often. But you're so busy these days," she said, squinting into the sun. "And I'm not allowed out _alone_."

Robert laughed heartily, giving Cora's hand a gentle squeeze. "With a mother like you, it's a miracle if she doesn't come out biting, dearest," he joked.

She glared at him, but did not acknowledge his statement. "You're mother's invited herself to dinner, hasn't she?"

"She heard you were too tired last night to eat with me, so she offered to add her presence so I won't have to eat _alone_." He stressed the last word just to annoy his wife.

"Who knows, I may be too tired to eat with you tonight," she said pointedly.

Robert rolled his eyes but laughed at her words. "I'm sure Mama would be glad to know she's been useful. She's been rather out of sorts since Papa's death."

"She seems just as tenacious and sarcastic to me," Cora said.

"Don't be unkind, Cora," he said. He meant to scold her gently, but his words caused more harm than good.

"I'm sorry. Of course, your mother is a saint and everything I say these days is obviously wrong," she replied in a heated voice, pulling her arm away from his.

"You know that is not what I meant," Robert told her, his own temper rising, although he tried to keep it in check. He knew she was only acting this way because of the pregnancy. The doctor had told Robert that Cora might be a little…irritable. And overly emotional.

"Apparently I never understand what you mean!" she shot back.

Robert rolled his eyes involuntarily. This was obviously the worst thing to do, for Cora looked angrier than he had ever seen her. She glared at him, angry tears in her eyes, before hastening back to the house.

"Cora!" he called after her, but she did not turn around. In spite of the situation, the sight of her waddling back to the house was quite amusing. Robert covered his mouth to hide his laughter, hoping it wouldn't reach Cora's ears.

* * *

As punishment to Robert—or so she thought to herself—she did not go down to dinner that night, feigning tiredness, although Robert knew she was being stubborn. It was nice to know he wasn't alone when it came to stubbornness, even if his tended to be worse when provoked.

Violet was especially interested in Cora's absence, asking if they'd had a row. Apparently she doubted Cora's fatigue two days in a row. Robert evaded her questions as best he could, insisting Cora was exhausted and not cross with him, though he knew otherwise.

He debated not going to her room tonight, but he couldn't bring himself to stay away from her. Not anymore.

After Royce had helped him into his pajamas, Robert had tied on his dressing gown and made his way to Cora's room, rapping lightly on the door. He hoped it sounded friendly, if it was even possible for a knock to sound friendly. He sighed as he waited for her to respond, rubbing his temples. He hoped he wasn't cracking up.

"Who is it?" Cora asked from her place on the bed, although she knew full well who it was.

"Your husband," Robert called through the door.

Cora folded her arms across her huge belly and didn't respond immediately. She debated whether she should send him back to his own room. _I'm the Countess of Grantham now,_ she thought to herself. _I can do whatever I choose._

"Go away," she said after a moment or two.

"Please, let me come in," he requested. "I just want to apologize." _Bloody hell, woman._

"Fine. You may enter," she replied in an imperious voice.

Grudgingly, Robert opened the door. Shutting it behind him, he walked over to the bed, his eyes on his wife. Her arms were crossed and she looked up toward the ceiling with a look as though she deemed it inferior to be above her head.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice as haughty as ever. He forced himself to not roll his eyes. Nothing good ever came of that.

"Might I sit down?" he asked carefully.

"If you must," was her disdainful reply. He sat, annoyed by her sullen behavior.

"Dearest, please look at me," he said, attempting to make his voice more gentle than his current feelings. _Stop being so irritating._

As though it pained her to do so, Cora met his eyes. With one look, it seemed his soft gaze had melted her resolve to be angry and she burst into tears.

"Cora, don't cry," he said tenderly, hurrying to the other side of the bed to be closer to her. She covered her face with her hands, ashamed of her behavior for most of the day.

"I'm so sorry, Robert. I know I've been awful," she sobbed as he pulled her against him, tightly wrapping his arms around her. He rubbed her back as she cried into his shoulder.

"Shh, don't apologize," he told her. "I shouldn't have been so unfeeling."

"I'm always taking offense to everything even though I don't mean to and deep down I know you mean well. I hate feeling so out-of-control all the time!" she said.

Robert kissed the top of her head. "The time will come when you'll feel more like yourself, love. And we'll have our darling baby," he reminded her, stroking her hair.

"What if she doesn't like me?" Cora asked fearfully, her fingers playing with the collar of Robert's robe.

"She'll adore you," he said. "You'll be her dear, sweet Mama. And always my beautiful, loving Cora."

"You're always so sensible, darling," she murmured. "And you're so very nice to me."

He chuckled, his lips against her hair. "It's easy to be nice to you," he said.

"Not this afternoon."

"Forget it," he instructed. "I know you love me."

"So desperately much," she replied, looking up at him.

"That is enough for me," he said gently. She smiled before leaning up and kissing him slowly. After a moment, she pulled away, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

"I am rather tired tonight," she told him. "Do you think you might read to me? I know I will sleep much more easily with your voice to comfort me."

"Of course," he said, kissing her forehead quickly.

She scooted away from him, allowing Robert to return to his side of the bed. He took of his dressing gown before climbing into bed beside her. She handed him the book from her bedside table and he opened to the first page. As he began reading, Cora snuggled up against him, laying her head on his chest.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"I just want to get out of this bed," Cora moaned, trying to find a comfortable position and failing miserably.

Robert sat on the nearby chair, reading his newspaper. Since Cora had been confined to bed rest permanently until the baby arrived, he'd been spending the mornings with her after her breakfast. And any free time in the afternoon when he could manage it. Not that estate business stopped for the Countess. He had to travel to London that afternoon, a fact with which Cora was not at all pleased. Especially since he was staying overnight at his club.

"The doctor said it would only be a few more weeks, my dear," he told her.

"How is the baby supposed to come out if I _never_ move? She probably thinks I'm dead."

Robert smiled at his frustrated wife. "I'm not sure it works like that," he joked.

"How would you know how it works? You've never had another person inside of you," she said snappishly, attempting to fluff the pillows behind her.

Noticing her discomfort, Robert put his paper on the nearby table and got to his feet, approaching the bed.

"Let me help you, Cora," he offered. With a sigh and a wrinkle of her nose, Cora leaned forward as best she could to allow Robert to situate the pillows for her.

"How's that?" he asked. She settled back into them, contemplating his handiwork.

"Much better, thank you, darling," she told him. He bent down and kissed the tip of her nose before sitting on the bed beside her.

"Must you go to London today?" Cora asked, a pout appearing on her face.

He smiled, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips before speaking. "I'm afraid so," he said. "But I'll be back tomorrow evening. It's not so long to be apart."

"It is terribly long to me," she grumbled.

"Perhaps I'll bring something back for you," he offered, brushing his thumb against the back of her hand.

"I only want you," Cora said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

With a grin, Robert leaned in and kissed her passionately. After a few moments, aware that the door was open far enough for anyone to see inside, he pulled away after placing one last kiss on his wife's cheek.

"I'll be back sooner than you think. You'll see. And haven't you grown tired of seeing me every night?" he asked with a laugh.

"Absolutely not," she told him, blushing in spite of how comfortable he made her feel. She was so at ease in his presence now, she could hardly remember feeling otherwise. The first half of their marriage seemed like a distant memory.

Robert noticed the change in her eyes, knew she was thinking about the past.

"Was it very awful?" he asked uncertainly. "Being married to me?"

"Not at first," she told him, covering his hand with both of her own. "But I realize now that, in spite of my disappointments, I was where I was meant to be. With you."

"How could you be so optimistic? If anyone has been a terrible husband, I was."

Cora smiled tenderly. "I always hoped that you would come around. That you would realize you loved me."

"What if I never had?" he asked.

She bent forward, kissing his cheek. "But you have. And that is what matters."

"Oh, my darling, you are too good for me," he told her, cupping her face in his hands.

"I know," she teased, smiling adoringly at him. He laughed and kissed her quickly on the mouth.

"I should go see that Royce has everything," he told her.

"Must you?" she asked, her spirits dropping again.

"I'll come say goodbye before we leave. I promise."

She rolled her eyes, but allowed him to kiss her once more.

"I love you, Cora," he said affectionately as he pulled away.

"I love you, too," she told him, wrinkling her nose playfully at him. "Now get out of here. I haven't rested for nearly an hour and I'm sure I should be tired by now."

Robert laughed as he got to his feet, smiling at her one last time before leaving the room to check on Mr. Royce.

* * *

_Bloody hell, I'll never get to sleep!_ Cora thought angrily to herself as she struggled to roll onto her other side.

It was nearly two in the morning and she was still awake. Without Robert there to read to her, or other things, she felt so alert from dozing all afternoon. She angrily wondered if Robert was sleeping like a baby in London. She knew everyone else in the house was probably asleep. It was so strange to be the only one upstairs—it was like a ghost town.

She sat up after a few minutes of restless tossing and turning, pushing her mussed up hair out of her face. In the darkness, she looked around her empty room, feeling terribly lonely and abandoned. She wished Robert were there, or anyone, even Violet. Perhaps she should have asked her to stay the night, just in case.

Realizing she was a little thirsty, Cora pushed herself out of bed slowly before wobbling over to the pitcher. Jenkins usually left a glass of water by the bed for her, but apparently she'd forgotten that night and Cora did not notice. In the darkness, she poured herself a glass of water. The pitcher felt strangely heavy in her hand, causing her to spill a bit on the floor at her feet. She swore in a whisper, glad Robert was not there to hear her be so unladylike.

Setting the pitcher down, Cora picked up the glass and took a sip from it. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen.

"Ouch!" she moaned, placing her hand on her belly. Then she noticed that the floor was wetter than before, the bottom of her nightgown covered in water as well. In her surprise, she accidentally let go of the glass, which thudded to the ground and spilt more water, while another pain came.

"Oh, no," she whispered, steadying herself by placing her hand on the table and taking a few deep breaths. _Robert is not here! I can't have the baby without him here!_

She began to breathe heavily due to worry and sheer terror about what she would soon have to do. As her heart rate accelerated, another contraction came and she cried out in pain.

Realizing what she needed to do, she waddled over to the bell pull on the wall and tugged on it hard a few times before making her way back to the bed.

After what seemed like ages, a knock came at the door and the hall boy opened it, standing at the door.

"What can I do for you, your ladyship?" he asked in a rather timid voice.

"Jack, I need you to wake up Elsie or Miss Jenkins and call for the doctor," she said urgently, turning to look at him. He looked more afraid to be there than she was.

"Right away, my lady," he said, leaving the door open as he darted away as another cry of pain came out of Cora. She wiped at her eyes, upset that Robert had left her alone.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Doctor Clarkson had been sent for while both Elsie and Jenkins were milling about, trying to make Cora comfortable as they waited for him to arrive.

"I'm sorry it's so late," Cora apologized to Elsie, who had just finished mopping up the water Cora had spilled as Jenkins went to fetch some towels and sheets. They'd just taken all the blankets off the bed and covered Cora with the only other sheet in the room.

"There's no need to apologize, my lady," Elsie said kindly, patting her shoulder. "The doctor will be here soon."

"Elsie, is there any way we could get a message to his lordship?" Cora asked, tears filling her eyes. "I should hate for Robert to not be here," she whispered. Another contraction came, distracting her for a few moments.

"Jack will run down to the telegraph office first thing in the morning and send a message to the club for Lord Grantham," Elsie said when the pain had passed, hoping she sounded consoling. She knew it was fairly likely that he wouldn't arrive any sooner. Plus, with it being January, it was likely he would be delayed by inclement weather.

"Is there no way to reach him sooner?" Cora asked desperately, her fingers clutching at the sheet. She was so terrified. She needed Robert to be there.

"Well, not unless someone was sent in the carriage. It is quite late, m'lady—"

"I'm sure I can't do it, Elsie," Cora said starkly. "I'm so afraid."

Elsie looked at her compassionately. "There's no reason to be afraid, m'lady," she said, patting Cora's hand. "You'll have a happy, healthy new _bairn_ soon."

"Elsie, could you stay with me until the doctor comes? I'd hate to be alone," she asked quietly.

"Of course, m'lady."

"Thank you," Cora told her, groaning as another contraction started.

* * *

_Oh, bloody—it's only six o'clock!_ Robert thought to himself as Royce knocked quickly before entering his room.

"My Lord, please forgive me, but there is a telegram for you," Royce apologized, throwing open the curtains in the room, although it was still quite dark out. Realizing this, he quickly lit some nearby candles as Robert forced himself to sit up.

"Where is it from?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes as Royce brought the telegram over along with a candle.

"From Downton, your lordship," Royce said.

Robert noted a tone of worry in the valet's voice as he took the telegram from him. He opened the yellow envelope, pulling out its contents and squinting as he struggled to read it in the dim candlelight.

"_Lord Grantham please return as soon as possible. Stop. Lady Grantham in labor. Stop_," Robert read aloud, his brain not taking in its meaning right away.

"Oh, my God! We must get back to Downton at once," Robert instructed, his heart beating as though he were running away from a lion. He practically threw himself out of bed and bolted over to his trunk to find a shirt and pair of trousers. "How soon can we be ready?"

"My Lord, don't you want me to do that?" Royce asked hesitantly.

"We haven't a moment to lose. I must be on the first train back to Downton," he said in a unsteady voice. "You can help finish me up, but, please, we must hurry."

"Of course," Royce said. "I'll return in ten minutes."

In Royce's short absence Robert managed to frantically dress himself—although he looked rather disheveled—and pack his trunk—which didn't seem to want to close. After he dressed and packed, he sat on a nearby chair, stewing over the fact that Cora was alone, that he was in London instead of at home, that he was missing the birth of their first child.

Royce returned quickly and tried to convince Robert to allow him to fix his tie and waistcoat. Grudgingly, Robert permitted it, although he clenched his teeth the entire time, staring at the clock above the mantle as though willing it to slow down.

"We're ready, my lord. I checked at the desk and the first train leaves at seven-thirty. I've already ordered a carriage," Royce said after he finally shut Robert's trunk.

"Thank you," Robert replied, his nerves causing his hands to shake slightly.

"Are you well, my lord?" the valet asked, noticing the tremors.

"I'm bloody well not all right, my wife is in labor!" Robert shouted. He glanced around, hoping he hadn't woken anyone. "Please, let's leave," he said in a whisper. The valet nodded solemnly, sitting the trunk on its side.

Royce had to force himself to not laugh as he followed Robert out of the room, the trunk in his arms.

* * *

"It won't be much longer, Lady Grantham," Doctor Clarkson said, washing off his hands after checking Cora's progress.

She sighed, allowing the nurse the doctor had brought with him to press a damp cloth to her forehead. It was nearly one in the afternoon. She'd been in labor for hours with nothing to show for it except for experiencing more pain than she ever had in her life.

And Robert had still not arrived.

"Jenkins, is there any news from Lord Grantham?" Cora asked anxiously as the maid entered, carrying more clean towels.

"I'm afraid not, m'lady, although Lynch sent a carriage to the station around nine," she replied, placing the towels in a stack at the foot of the bed.

"Please, Lady Grantham, you must try not to worry about Lord Grantham," Clarkson advised. "It will put strain on your heart and the baby if your blood pressure remains so high."

Cora bit her lip to keep herself from telling Clarkson off. Or throwing the water pitcher at him. Not that she would be able to lift it, as all her concentration was focused elsewhere. She forced herself to not cry again, for she had already blubbered all over one nightgown and didn't fancy being forced by Jenkins to change into another one.

"Miss Jenkins, could you bring some fresh water, please?" Clarkson asked, wanting to divert Cora's attention elsewhere.

"Of course, sir," Jenkins said, nodding before heading toward the bedroom door. Before Jenkins reached it, the door opened and she jumped away as Robert rushed inside. Cora's heart leapt in her chest at the sight of him.

"Oh, my darling," he said, sitting on the side of the bed. He took Cora's hand and kissed it quickly. "I'm so sorry I'm late."

"I'm so glad you're here," she said, tears filling her eyes.

Another contraction came and Cora did her best to not scare Robert with her groans of pain, although he did look quite appalled by her state.

"Is everything all right, Doctor Clarkson?" Robert asked, genuinely worried by her pain. And by the fact that she was gripping so hard his fingers were turning purple.

"Yes, it's quite usual for the contractions to be so…rigorous…this far in the labor. Lady Grantham is very healthy and the baby should be here soon," he replied as the spasm relaxed.

"Cora, darling, do you mind if I wait downstairs? I don't like seeing you in pain," he said, concerned she would not let him leave.

"I understand. Just to know that you're in the house makes this so much bearable," she told him with a forced smile. Forced because of the pain, not because she minded him leaving, for she had just realized how terrible she must look and how much she wanted to swear aloud again.

Robert kissed her cheek and then hurried out of the room before another contraction started.

* * *

"How much longer do you think it will be?" Robert asked in an agitated voice as he paced the floor of the drawing room.

It was after nine o'clock in the evening. Violet had come to dinner, due to Cora being in labor, but she had done very little to calm her son's nerves.

"I'm sure I do not know. I had to wait nearly twenty-four hours for both you and Rosamund to arrive," she said, cross because she wanted to meet the baby and she had spent most of the day fretting whether she would be invited to dinner. Plus, she was remembering how she had been in labor for practically a day for both her children and they'd never properly thanked her for it.

"Please, Mama, you know I don't care to know about those sorts of things," he said, holding up his hand.

"Don't be so squeamish, Robert," she snapped as Carson took her empty glass away.

"I'm sorry, Mama, dear," he apologized immediately, wringing his hands nervously. "We haven't heard anything for a while, should I go up?"

"They'll come find us when there's something to tell," she told him. "Now sit down and stop pacing like a wild horse locked in a paddock."

Obediently, he sat down, his hands clenched into fists on his lap. He sat in silence for a minute or two, although it felt like nearly an hour due to his apprehension.

"Maybe one of the footmen could check?" he suggested.

Before Violet could give him a proper scolding, Miss Jenkins entered, smiling at them.

"Pardon me, your lordship, but her ladyship is resting now if you'd both like to go up," she said.

Robert bounced to his feet, turning to look at Violet.

"Send for me after you see her, I'd hate to intrude," Violet told him.

Beaming, Robert nearly ran out of the room after kissing his mother's cheek, taking the stairs two at a time. Doctor Clarkson and the nurse were at the door of Cora's room when he reached it, pushing it open for him to go inside.

"I asked Lady Grantham to ring for the nurse when she's ready," Clarkson said. Robert barely heard him, but nodded anyway before entering the room.

Much like she was earlier, Cora was propped against a pile of pillows in the center of the bed. However, now a small bundle lay in her arms and she was cooing and smiling happily at the little thing. When she noticed Robert's presence, she looked up, tears in her eyes.

"Oh, my dearest, dearest Cora," he said, approaching the bed. Realizing he was still in his evening finery, he slipped out of his jacket and kicked his shoes off before climbing onto the bed beside her and the small baby. He pressed his palm against her cheek.

"Would you like to meet your daughter, Robert?" Cora asked gently. She looked exhausted but exhilarated at the same time.

Robert grinned madly as he leaned forward to look at his baby girl for the first time. Her eyes were closed as she slept in her mother's arms, a placid look on her face, her tiny fingers clenched into fists. A mop of dark fuzz resembling her mother's covered the sleeping baby's head.

"She looks like a fighter," he commented.

"You should have heard her wail. It was like a banshee," Cora told him with a laugh. Robert chuckled, reaching his fingers out to brush them against the baby's soft cheek. She yawned at his touch, squirming slightly in Cora's arms.

"She's perfect, my darling," he said tenderly. Cora smiled and he leaned forward to kiss her slowly.

"But what shall we call her?" she asked, leaning her forehead against his as Robert placed one arm around her shoulders, playing with the baby's fingers with his other hand.

"What do you think?" he asked contentedly. Cora rested her body against his as she thought it over.

"I like Mary," she said finally after a few minutes of silent consideration. "Mary Josephine Crawley."

"A perfect name," Robert told Cora. "Hello, my darling Mary," he said, his eyes on the child's face. She smacked her lips together in her sleep, but did not stir otherwise. Robert looked at Cora, who was crying again.

"Oh, my dear," he whispered, brushing his thumb against Cora's cheek to dry some of her tears. "I'm so proud of you."

She smiled happily at him, although the tears did not stop.

"I think I love you now more than ever," he said, tightening his arm around her shoulders. With a laugh, she kissed him.

"I was so afraid, but I'm not now," she said, leaning her forehead against his neck.

"You needn't be afraid, my darling. But you should get some rest," he told her.

"Don't let them take her just yet," Cora instructed, brushing her finger against Mary's cheeks. "I want to sit with you a while."

"Whatever you want," he said, allowing her to settle more comfortably against him. "Would you like me to sleep in my dressing room so you can rest more easily tonight?"

"Absolutely not," she told him firmly. "I only rest easily when you are here with me. Although Mary's feedings might disturb you."

"I'd be honored to be disturbed by our darling little daughter," he replied.

"I'll remind you of that when it's four in the morning."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

"Your ladyship, it's time to feed the baby."

Robert nearly swore aloud when he heard the voice of the nurse in their room. He felt as though he had only just fallen asleep and then it was time to feed the little creature again. Rolling on his side to face Cora, who had apparently not been woken by the nurse's words, he reached out and shook her shoulder, a little rougher than he intended. But it was late and he was exhausted. He couldn't control his movements anymore.

"Cora, wake up," he muttered next to her ear. Immediately, Cora sat straight up, realizing Mary needed her.

"Thank you, Nurse Lewis," Cora said in a surprisingly alert voice, taking the fussing baby from the lady's arms after quickly unbuttoning the top of her nightgown.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," the nurse said with a nod. Being in the same room with a cranky and tired Lord Grantham was not an ideal situation. She wished they'd sleep apart until the child was weened.

As soon as she was gone, Robert moaned loudly into the pillow. "Bloody hell, what time is it?" he asked crossly.

"I warned you," Cora said with a chuckle, her fingers stroking the top of Mary's head. She was nearly four months old and her hair was starting to curl into lovely little ringlets. "It seems to be about quarter to five."

"Good God in heaven!"

"Hush, darling, don't startle Mary. You know how she gets," she reminded him gently.

He sat up, annoyed that he was more awake now. "She started it," he complained, climbing out of bed to get a drink of water.

"She's a baby, Robert. It's what they do," she said, slightly perturbed by his anger at their child. "No one said you had to sleep here."

"Please, let's not have a row before the sun is even up," he sighed, placing his empty glass beside the pitcher before returning to the bed and climbing in next to her.

"Well, you started it," she shot back before yawning widely. She had not gotten used to being woken up so much during the night either, but she was glad someone else's sleep was interrupted beside her own, even though she loved every minute she spent with little Mary. Although the baby already had a strong personality and wasn't very fond of cuddling, which often upset Cora. Robert told her that she would come around, but Cora wanted to hold and love their baby all the time.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, noticing Cora's brooding expression. "You know I'm rather cross when my beauty sleep is interrupted. I need it more than you do, my love."

Her face softened at his words. Realizing it was safe now, he leaned over and kissed her cheek before collapsing back on his pillow.

"What time do you have to be up?" she asked.

"I'm supposed to be in my dressing room at eight for Royce to get me ready to meet with some of the handymen. Why did we stay up so late?" he asked through a yawn.

"Because _you_ were overenthusiastic this time," she reminded him.

"Don't talk about _it_ in front of the baby," he said in an appalled voice.

"She doesn't understand what we're talking about," Cora said, trying not to laugh and jar the dozing infant awake.

"I really have missed you, my darling," he said in a sleepy voice.

She smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair. "I've missed you, too."

"But tonight, let's not stay up so late. Mary's just going to wake us up and the nurse might accidentally walk in again."

Cora blushed, remembering how Nurse Lewis had walked in around one in the morning a few nights ago. Apparently she had knocked.

"Perhaps we'll need a new nurse," she replied, her cheeks bright pink.

"And deprive a woman of her livelihood? Let her hand in her notice first!" Robert said, shaking his fist above his head, his face still pressed into the pillowcase.

Cora laughed for a moment, before she realized Mary had finished eating and was fast asleep.

"Quiet, darling, Mary's asleep now," she whispered, kissing her daughter's forehead. Beside her, she heard the sound of Robert's steady breathing. She turned her head and looked at him, which confirmed her guess that he had fallen asleep as well. Smiling, she settled against the headboard, waiting patiently for the nurse to return for Mary. She wished this moment would last forever.

* * *

"Was Robert correct in telling me your mother and father are coming over next week?" Violet asked as she took the tea cup from Cora.

It was after three-thirty and Cora wanted to rest, but Violet had invited herself to tea due to the fact that Cora had not been able to join her at the Dower house for tea since months before Mary was born. Cora hadn't gotten much sleep after Robert had left at eight that morning, plus Mary had to be fed soon after that.

"They are," Cora told her, pouring herself a cup and trying not to sound too tired. She knew Violet would be offended.

"Will your brother be joining them?" she asked, stirring a lump of sugar into the tea.

"Unfortunately not," Cora replied, taking more sugar than usual for herself. She hoped it would help her stay awake. "He's quite busy with work and preparing for his marriage."

"Yes, Robert said he was engaged to that girl, Miss Walters. She was rather a quiet girl, if I remember correctly." Violet looked disapproving, as though Lissy's introversion was odious to her.

"She's a very dear friend," was all Cora could think to say without sounding rude, although she knew her tone was rather biting. "Robert tells me some other family members will be attending the small party."

"Yes, I felt it was important to introduce Mary to the rest of her family—even if she's too young to remember it."

"Who all is coming?"

"Robert's first cousin, James, and his wife, Jane—they have a little boy who is about five, I believe, Patrick. Robert and James were always very close growing up, although James is a little too sarcastic at times for my taste."

Cora raised her eyebrows but did not speak. _Heavens, who'd have thought you would be offended by sarcasm? You have so much of your own_.

"Both of James' parents have passed, rather a mercy since his mother was a most detestable woman. Rosamund, of course, will come, along with Mr. Painswick—no doubt to ask if he may finally marry her."

"My, he's certainly taken his time, hasn't he?" Cora asked.

"Rosamund will say his wait was so he was sure he could provide for her, but I was beginning to wonder why he was dragging his feet."

"He always seems so fond of Rosamund whenever I see them together," she offered. Cora liked Mr. Painswick, whatever Violet thought about him and his family's fortune. She knew enough to realize that Marmaduke loved Rosamund dearly. Cora had a feeling it was Rosamund who was dragging her feet, not the other way around.

"Surely he can't be after her money, for he has more of it, even if it's not quite so old as ours."

Cora held her tongue as Violet mused aloud. She wagered the current Crawley money was about the same age as the Painswick's, since it had been Cora's fortune.

"He can't be after her position, for he won't change status, whomever _he _marries."

Cora fought the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't need to be scolded by Violet.

"So, how is motherhood so far?" Violet asked, feeling as though she'd exhausted the subject of Rosamund.

"It's been quite lovely," Cora said. "Although I'm sure I could do with a bit more sleep. Were either Robert or Rosamund a handful?"

"Robert was always a happy baby. He rarely cried and loved to be held. But Rosamund was, well, rather distant, much as she is now, I suppose. Not that she cried more than Robert, but she was terribly independent."

"Mary seems to have rather an independent streak as well. I hope it doesn't mean she'll be difficult to handle when she's older," Cora said, finishing her tea.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it dear," Violet advised. Cora nodded as Violet finished her own cup.

"More tea?" Cora asked, praying she'd decline.

"I'm afraid not," she replied. "I have some things to take care of before Lady Ruthers dines with me this evening. I'll be over tomorrow for tea and to help you prepare for the party."

"Oh, how kind. But I'm sure that won't be necessary—Mrs. Brooks and I have it under control. And I wouldn't want to waste any of your time, Mama," Cora said.

Violet looked cross, but replied, "Very well. I really must be going." She got to her feet.

"Of course," Cora told her, standing as well. "I'll give Mary and Robert your love."

The Dowager Countess nodded curtly as Carson entered.

"Carson, I was just leaving," Violet said in a terse voice.

"Very good, my lady," he said, following her from the room. Cora noticed he had raised his eyebrows slightly.

Chuckling to herself, Cora headed up to her room to lie down until Robert returned from the village. She knew Mary would be hungry again soon.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Cora stood back, watching the scene unfold. Her parents were at opposite ends of the room, conversing with various members of the Crawley family. She found Robert among a group of male relatives, his cousin James among them. Cora could tell there was a mutual fondness and respect for one another, as well as a weakness for teasing the other. James' wife, Jane, sat near Rosamund, although the latter was deep in conversation with Mr. Painswick. Jane looked rather dazed, as though she wasn't quite sure what she should do.

"Cousin Jane," she said, taking an empty seat beside the lady. Cora addressed her, as Robert had advised her to. "How was your journey to Downton?"

"It was fair, although Patrick was incorrigible. He's in the stage where he never stops chattering and constantly moves around. I told James we should have left him with his nanny, but he insisted we bring him," Jane told her. Cora nodded understandingly.

"Well, we're happy to have all of you. And I'm sure Nanny is quite able to look after him. When I stopped by earlier, Patrick seemed perfectly at ease with her and very well-behaved," she said, hoping to ease the lady's worries.

"Thank you," Jane replied, folding her hands in her lap. "It has been such a long time since we were here."

"Not since the death of Robert's father, I believe," Cora said quietly. "I hope you find Downton as well-maintained as before."

"Oh, more so," Jane said kindly, taking Cora's hand. "You've done so well here, Cora. And Robert seems much more taken with you than before, silly man."

Cora blushed. "Is it really so noticeable?" she asked quietly.

"It took him long enough," Jane replied. "Though now it seems that whatever he's doing, he can't keep his eyes off you for long."

Cora glanced over at her husband, meeting his eyes for a second. He grinned at her before returning his attention to the conversation. She smiled, looking at Jane again.

"Well, no marriage is perfect," Cora said, trying not to blush.

"I don't know. It's been years since James looked at me like that—possibly not since Patrick was born. I'm sure I've turned into such a terrible nag," she said, her voice rather sad.

"Patrick is such a sweet boy," Cora told her after a few moments, trying to change the subject. "How old is he?"

"He'll be five in March," Jane said, just as cheerless.

"He seemed rather taken with Mary. He kept asking Nanny if he could hold her or play trains with her." Cora smiled, hoping this would raise Jane's spirits.

"Yes, he's always asking for a younger brother or sister. I suppose it is awfully lonely for a child without a playmate. But James never wanted more than one." She looked rather bitter at this thought. "How many children do you and Cousin Robert want?"

"Oh, I'm not sure," Cora admitted, realizing that was a rather personal question.

"Well, I suppose it's as many until you get a boy," Jane said. "To inherit the title and the estate."

"Who will inherit if we don't have a son?" she asked. She wondered why she had never thought to ask Robert this question since it was so imperative to the future of Downton.

"As James is Robert's first cousin, he would inherit, although it would be a wonder if James out-lived Robert. Then Patrick would inherit the title," answered Jane, patting Cora's hand consolingly. "Although I'm sure that won't be the case. Your son will inherit, Cora."

Cora forced a smile, her thoughts drifting to Mary for a few moments.

"Mary is such a lovely baby," Jane said.

"Thank you," she replied. "Tell me, who do you think she looks more like?"

"Oh, she is the image of you, my dear, although it is difficult to tell at that age—their faces are so round. But your mother mentioned earlier that Mary greatly resembles you when you were a baby."

"I think she has Robert's ears," Cora said, smiling.

"She may have his ears, but they at least fit her head properly," Jane joked. Cora laughed. "And she'll be_ much_ prettier than Robert. Her hair is going to be gorgeous, just like yours. I always wanted raven-black hair when I was a girl, but unfortunately I was born with this fire-color."

"Nonsense, your hair is lovely—like goldenrod."

"James always calls me 'Ginger' when I get cross—a term of endearment he picked up from my mother when she stayed with us after Patrick was born." Jane looked terribly irritated just thinking about it.

"Why don't we slip upstairs and say hello to our little ones? I know Mary will need feeding soon and I'm sure Patrick would love to see you."

"Well, I doubt anyone would miss me," Jane said, rather glumly. Trying to maintain her optimism, Cora led Jane up to the nursery. As soon as she opened the door, Patrick came bounding over to them, his red hair mussed up from playing on the floor. Nanny had changed him out of his dress clothes and into his pajamas.

"Mummy! Mummy!" Patrick squealed happily, clinging to his mother's skirts. "Nanny said I could hold the baby if Cousin Cora said it was okay. Actually, she called her 'Lady Grantham,' but I know that's who she meant. Do I have to call Cousin Cora 'Lady Grantham,' too, Mummy?"

"Of course not, dear one," Jane said warmly, bending down to kiss the top of her son's head.

"Cousin Cora, may I hold baby Mary?" he asked, turning to Cora. "She was crying earlier and I tried to make funny faces at her, but she must not have liked them because she kept crying. Is baby Mary sick, Cousin Cora?"

Cora laughed. "No, she isn't sick, just hungry. We'll see if you can hold her after she has some dinner."

"What's she gonna eat? I tried to give her some of my dinner, but Nanny told me not to and even slapped my hand, which I thought was rude. But she's a nice Nanny—I like her more than Nanny Woom, although I do love Nanny Woom," Patrick chattered on for a few minutes more about how nice his nanny was, how she sang him to sleep and brought him sweets.

As Patrick jabbered, Cora walked over to Mary's basket. She was wide awake and gurgled happily when she saw Cora, something she hadn't done before. With dewy eyes, Cora scooped Mary into her arms and kissing the top of her head before settling down in the armchair by the window.

* * *

Despite the lateness of the hour, Cora waited up for Robert to come to her room. She had just returned from Mary's last feeding for the night. Cora would be woken by the nanny some time after three.

She lay on her stomach as she read, although she knew if anyone saw her they would say she was improper. At this thought, she smiled to herself.

The door opened and she turned her head, her eyes meeting Robert's. He rarely knocked anymore, especially when he was eager to see her.

"Heavens, Cora, you are quite shocking!" he joked, shutting the door quickly before approaching the bed. She laughed, closing her book and pushing it to the side.

"I knew you'd come in and scold me," she replied. Grinning, he took off his dressing gown before climbing onto the bed, resting his arm over her back as he lay on his stomach beside her.

"Don't be so indecent, then," he said softly, his lips next to her ear. Rolling on her side, Cora wrapped her arms around Robert's neck, kissing him slowly.

"I saw you disappear with Jane. Whatever was that about?" he asked. She laid her head on the mattress, tilting her face to look up at him.

"I had to feed Mary, darling. And Jane wanted to see Patrick. He's such a funny little boy," Cora told him with a laugh. "Always chatting—like an old woman. Why didn't you tell me that James inherits if we don't have any boys?" She looked very serious.

"I didn't want you to worry about it," he said, gently touching her cheek with his fingers. "There's no controlling what happens where that is concerned."

"Will you be terribly disappointed if they're all girls?" she asked timidly, running her fingers through his hair.

"Oh, my darling," he whispered. "I'll love them, not matter what happens."

"But what about Downton?" she asked, her fingers encircling his wrist.

"Well, Mary could always marry Patrick," Robert replied in jest.

Cora chuckled. "If she'd allow it—she's stronger willed than her Papa."

He laughed, kissing the tip of Cora's nose. "I think marriage has tamed me, don't you?"

"Perhaps a bit," she replied. "I've made you so much nicer, at least."

Smiling, he settled on his side, his arm still wrapped around her waist. "Oh, I think I've always been very nice."

"If you say so, Robert, dearest," Cora told him, snuggling closer. He laughed, nuzzling his face against her neck.

"What were you and James talking about?" she asked.

"Mostly business-talk with the other men. He asked after you, of course. Why?"

"Jane seems very unhappy. I think things are quite strained between them," Cora said, brushing her cheek against his.

"James has never been an affectionate fellow, if that's what you mean. And Jane is always sees the negative wherever she looks. They always were a rather peculiar match if you ask me."

"They don't seem to like each other anymore," she replied glumly. She hoped that wouldn't happen to them.

"We're not James and Jane, Cora," Robert told her.

"I know," she said with a sigh. "We were rather an odd match to some people. Even you."

"Had you no reservations?"

"None," she said in a firm voice.

Moved by his wife's resolve, Robert leaned forward and kissed her slowly.

"I love you, Cora," he said quietly.

She smiled, her heart beating faster when he said her name. "I love you, too," she replied, placing her palm against his cheek, running her thumb across his lips. "I think I love you even more than I like you."

With a laugh, Robert wrapped his arms tighter around Cora, enthusiastically pressing his lips against hers.

* * *

(Note: This is the end of this particular fic. I'm planning to pick up the Cobert story after I write a few other things-and after this next semester because it will be VERY busy. Thank you so much for reading and for all your encouragement and comments in the process!)


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